#1 ~ What Was I Thinking? ~ Part 1

Disclaimer: JKR might create these characters, but I don’t think she’d create these scenes. They are dick-stinctly my own. Enjoy, little lemon lovers! Enjoy.

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A/N: I’ve been working at this since 9 PM central time. It is now 4:00 AM. You reviewed, I made sure I kept my end of the bargain. I guess that this ended up being a PWP (Porn with Plot). Thank you all for being so patient. The lemonade stand is now open. Enjoy…let me know how you like it. I’m going to take a shower and go the hell to bed. If there are errors, I’ll get them later today. Night night.
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Chapter 8 ~ The First Consummation


The following day, Hermione decided to attend breakfast in the Great Hall. She looked at the innocent paisley overnight bag sitting on her bed, and a wave of warmth washed over her body as she realized that this was going to be her last morning as a virgin. Her Potions professor…correction…former Potions professor was going to deflower her tonight. No. Deflowerment was too polite, too gentle a term. She remembered exactly what he said he would do…

“…I am going to fuck you, Hermione. I am going to fuck you until you no longer know who or what you are.”

Hermione’s legs began to tremble as a flood of wetness gushed out and soaked the crotch of her panties. “Damn,’ she said as she lifted her robes and slid the sopping underwear over her thighs, down her calves and gingerly shook them off. “This is the second pair I’ve ruined this morning.”

She took the wet garment into the bathroom and filled the sink with cold water. She could smell the scent of her desire wafting off of them, pungent in the morning air. She soaped them up, scrubbed and rinsed them carefully, wringing them out before hanging them on the towel rack, next to her other pair. She couldn’t stand the embarrassment of house elves handling her somewhat soiled delicates. Especially in this case.

She washed her hands and exited her rooms, absently musing over the coming event. She walked through the common room like a zombie. A few students were milling about, carrying boxes and bags for last minute packing. Hermione was oblivious to the activity, heading for the portrait exit with a blank expression on her face. Only an exhuberant, “Oy! Hermione! Wotcha’” broke through her daze.

It was Ron, walking up to her, hair flaming and a big grin on his face. He had gotten over her scathing rebuke from several weeks before, attributing the outburst to “female problems” like so many other men who have no clue as to what they’ve done to deserve such treatment.

“Hi, Ron,” she said with a small smile.

“Decided to come out of your cave, eh? Going down to breakfast?” he asked, smiling back at her broadly. “Mind if I walk with you? Harry had to go up to Dumbledore’s office to discuss his summer plans. So I’m flying solo this morning.”

“Sure,” Hermione said. She linked her arm in Ron’s as they passed through the portrait and headed downstairs to the Great Hall.

Ron spoke, lowering his voice in case someone should overhear him. “I don’t know what Dumbledore’s planning for him, but I’m hoping he’ll come stay at the Burrow for a while.”

His brow furrowed as he continued glumly, “But knowing Dumbledore, he’ll probably try and lock him up at that dingy mausoleum of a Headquarters forever.”

“Well Ron, you know Voldemort is after Harry,” Hermione said diplomatically. Ron winced, still unable to say or hear the Dark Lord’s name without feeling the need to relieve himself

“Maybe Headquarters would be the safest place for him,” Hermione continued evenly. He’d be safe there, and have lots of protection if … if anyone came after him.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “Rotten life Harry has, isn’t it? He can’t go anywhere or do anything without … without you-know-who trying to hex him off the face of the earth. And even when he’s someplace safe, he’s always being told what he can and can’t do, when he can come and go…who he can and can’t see…it’s enough to drive anyone flaming bonkers.”

“Yes. But Harry’s strong, Ron,” Hermione returned. “He has a destiny. He didn’t choose it, but he is trying his best to prepare himself to fulfill it. After Voldemort is gone for good, he’ll be able to live a normal life. So will the rest of the wizarding world. Everyone’s counting on him. He has a great responsibility. He knows he has to make some concessions until the final battle. And I think he handles it well, overall.”

“Here’s a thought! Maybe they’ll let him start Auror training. That will be good for him, don’t you think?” Ron was grasping desperately at straws for some kind of hope that Harry would be all right away from him and happy.

“Yeah, Ron…it really would be,” Hermione agreed, giving his arm a squeeze.

They walked in companionable silence to the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was nearly empty. Some students had left early, but Hermione suspected that the majority of Hogwarts students were either still in bed, suffering for celebrating a bit to much the night before, or queuing up outside the hospital wing for some Hangover cure. Madame Pomphrey kept plenty of it for after-graduation blues.

Ron and Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table. Ron immediately dragged every platter in reach around him, and got straight down to some serious consumption. Hermione rolled her eyes. Same old Ron. One day he was going to choke to death on a pheasant bone.

Hermione plucked a hot cross bun off a platter to her left that Ron hadn’t managed to commandeer. She poured herself a glass of iced pumpkin juice. As she brought the glass to her lips, she glanced at the Head table.

Dumbledore wasn’t in evidence…still with Harry she supposed. Neither was Hagrid. Probably wrestling with his last remaining Blast-ended Skroot, a huge thing about thirteen feet in length, that could blast the side off a barn from thirty paces. She still couldn’t understand how it survived. It just didn’t eat anything.

Madame Hooch, Professor Flitwick, Professor Vector, Professor Sinistra and Professor McGonagal were all enjoying their meals, chatting sociabley and visibly more relaxed now that the year was over. And there, sitting in his usual place was Professor Snape.

The pale, dark-haired professor wasn’t eating however. He was leaning back in his chair at an angle, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he looked directly at her. There wasn’t anything particularly menacing in his gaze or posture. He just sat there, his eyes locked on her, his aristocratic brows furrowed slightly and lips slightly pursed. He didn’t even nod in acknowledgement. He just watched her drinking her juice.

Hermione maintained her composure however. Her hand only trembled slightly as she set her glass of pumpkin juice carefully on the table. She breathed in and out slowly, then took a small bite of her bun. She glanced back at the Head table, and he was still looking at her. What was he doing? Didn’t he think others would notice he was watching her?

“Snape looks a million miles away, doesn’t he?’ Ron said around a mouthful of biscuit. “Look at him stroking his chin. The git’s probably thinking up new tortures for next year’s lot.”

Hermione looked at Ron, startled for a moment, then looked back at Severus. Yes, for all intents and purposes, he did look like he was lost in his own world, since he hadn’t moved or changed expression. But his eyes met hers. She was sure of it. She let out a weak laugh for Ron’s benefit, and resumed eating her bun. She wouldn’t let him get a rise out of her. She was going to be made a woman in a few hours. It was time to show him that she had her emotions in control. She dabbed at her mouth neatly with a napkin, and picked up her juice again.

Are you ready for me?

Hermione froze, the glass in her hand an inch from her mouth.

Are you ready for me, Hermione?

That was the Potions Master’s silky voice speaking in her head. How was he doing this?

I am still connected to you. As long as you retain that ghost of our dialogue in your head, I can speak to you like this. And hear your thoughts as well.

Get out of my head!

Hermione heard an evil chuckle that made gooseflesh rise on her arms.

Considering where my own head wiill be in a few hours, I will grant your request. Don’t be late, Hermione. I’ll be waiting.

And the voice was gone.

Hermione looked up at the table. The Potions Master was now eating his meal of eggs and toast. Only the quick hooded glance and smirk he gave her told her that she had not imagined the exchange.

Hermione stood up. She was not going to let him bait her.

“Where you going, ‘Mione? Ron asked around a forkful of eggs. He had put quite a dent in the platters around him. Where did he put it all?

“Back to my rooms. I have some last minute packing to do,” she lied.

“Oh,” Ron said shortly. “I thought you were going to tell me you were going to the libra…” Ron stopped as he wisely thought better of finishing this particular sentence. He brightened. “Hey, Harry and I are going to take one last trip into Hogsmeade this afternoon. Why don’t you come? We’ll have a great time.”

“I can’t,” Hermione said tersely.

“Why?” Ron said suspiciously. “There’s nothing to do around here, now that graduation’s over.”

“I have a … a previous engagement, that’s why,” she answered a bit defensively. That did it. Ron actually put his fork down, his eyes narrowed.

“With who?” he demanded as he stood up and faced his friend. “What are you on about, Hermione? You’ve been acting strange the last eight weeks. Like you’re possessed or something. You didn’t come out of your rooms half the time, unless it was to take points from someone walking too loud in the corridors or coughed at an inappropriate time. You almost made us lose the House Cup because of all the points you took from your own housemates. And you have no time, NO time for Harry and me. I know I’m not the fastest broom in the shed, but I know when something’s going on, and Hermione, something is definitely going on…and you are going to tell me, right now!”

Ron was in a right state. His eyes were wide and glassy, and his face an angry red. His fists were clenched tightly against his body.

The fury gathering on Hermione’s face was like an approaching storm.

“How dare you!” she exploded. “How dare you demand that I tell you anything about my life. MY life, Ron. There is nothing wrong with me that I can’t handle. I’m not little, helpless Hermione any more. There aren’t any mountain trolls waiting in a lavatory somewhere to bash my head in. Ron, I’m a grown woman now. I don’t have to tell you every little secret about my life, like you were my father. I have my own agenda, Ron. You better learn to respect my boundries or…or”

“Or what?’ Ron asked sullenly.

“Or I’ll never speak to you again as long as I live!” she spat.

Ron visibly deflated as Hermione bolted for the doors.

“Hermione! Hermione!” he called after her as the doors slammed shut.

McGonagal leaned into Professor Flitwick. “Not again!” she whispered. Flitwick just shook his head and watched as Ron sank back down at the table to half-heartedly picked at the remaining food before him.

Severus had watched the exchange with mild interest. My, my. Miss Granger is spreading her wings. He grinned to himself wickedly, his eyes smoldering with anticipation.

And just think…in a few hours I’m going to be the one to help her fly.

The Potions Master rose from his chair and nodded his goodbyes to his fellow staff members. With a flick of his robes he was out of the Great Hall and striding through the corridors. Instead of heading for the dungeons he turned out of the doors leading to the Hogwarts grounds. Walking almost in double-time, he made it to the gates in a matter of minutes. He unwarded them, stepped through, replaced the wards, and in a twinkling, disapparated.

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It seemed like Hermione was forever flinging herself on the bed. She was furious, staring up at the ceiling with her arms crossed over her breasts stubbornly. Ron had done it again. Brought out the beast in her. She was tired of him trying to run her life. He needed to keep his big Weasley nose out of her business. She looked at the clock. It was only a quarter to nine. A few hours yet. She needed to calm down…maybe take a nap. Yes, a nap sounded about right. She rolled over and set the clock for one sharp, then turned back and closed her eyes.

Get your rest, Miss Granger. It’s going to be a long night.

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The clock read two thirty-five. Hermione was dressed in a simple flowered white sundress. She wore comfortable flats that flattered her feet. She had painted her toenails a light pink color. Her hair had been brushed down to a glossy curling mass that hung halfway down her back. She wished she had thought to buy some sexy underwear, but somehow…with all her anxiety, it never crossed her mind. But she did have on a nice white lace matching bra and panty set. It would have to do. Besides, she doubted if the Potions Master would have her in them for long anyway. She didn’t wear any make-up, but had applied a little gloss to her lips. She practiced looking pouty. Gods, she felt like such a Lolita. The house elves had picked up all of her boxes and bags. Her rooms were now empty, even the sheets gone off her bed. She looked at the clock again. It now read two-forty. It was time to go if she wanted to arrive at the dungeons looking fresh. She didn’t want to have to rush and arrive all sweaty. She picked up her overnight bag, took one last look at her empty room, and swallowed back the threatening tears. It was really over. She was leaving Hogwarts. Taking a deep breath, she left the room.

She practically tip-toed down the stairs to the common room, and peeked around the corner to see if Ron or Harry were laying in wait. They weren’t. She walked to the portrait and pushed her way out.

“Why don’t you look nice, Miss Granger!” commented the Fat Lady. “Out for a final fling?”

“Something like that,” she muttered under her breath. “Goodbye, Fat Lady…you were a wonderful door.”

“Goodbye,” the Fat Lady responded with a genteel smile. “I know whatever you decide to do with your life, you will succeed. Such a smart little witch.”

Hermione gave the portrait a weak little smile and headed for the dungeons.

“I wonder how smart she’d think I was if she knew I was on my way to shag the Potions Master,” she thought with just a twinge of guilt.


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Severus’ cock had been giving him hell all day. The first time was when Hermione entered the Great Hall arm in arm with that twit, Weasley. He could feel the swelling immediately, and leaned back, strategically draping his robe in such a way that it wouldn’t be noticeable. It was a little difficult to free it from his silk boxers without McGonagal seeing him, but he managed, and gravity was with him. It lay back throbbing quietly against his belly.

The second time was when he entered the seaside cottage he rented for the day, along with the plump, smiling landlady. When he saw the king-sized canopy bed, his organ sprang to life so hard and rigid, it was painful. Gravity wasn’t with him this time. He had to discreetly turn his body away from the landlady, almost looking over his shoulder as she spoke to him. He was sure she would have passed out at the sheer size of the erection tenting his robes. Or worse, thought it was for her. Anyway, it didn’t go down fully for a good hour and a half.

And now, it was standing at attention awaiting Hermione’s arrival like an honor guard. Cursing, he wrestled with positioning it, finally settling on a horizontal position, tucked in the elastic waistband to hold it in place.

He looked at his clock. It read five minutes to three. She would be knocking on the door any second now. He walked to his desk and sat down, lacing his fingers together on the desk. He twiddled his thumbs. Then tapped the tips together. Where was she damn it? She’d better not be late.

There was a light, timid knock on the door. Entirely unlike any knock Miss Granger…no…Hermione had ever done before. Usually she pounded on it like a troll. He smirked. This time however, she wasn’t coming to talk grades. She was coming to…come.

“Come in,” he said gruffly.

The door opened slowly and Hermione walked in, looking nervous. She looked delicious in white. He wondered suddenly, if she’d dare wear white to her wedding. After tonight, red might be the best color of choice.

He stood when she entered. He fixed her with a steady gaze. “Good afternoon, Hermione.”

“Good afternoon, Profes…” Hermione corrected herself, “I mean Severus”

He nodded. “Don’t worry Hermione, by tomorrow morning you will be very used to saying my name.”

She bit her lip, not responding.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked her, moving from behind his desk and approaching her cautiously, as one might do to a small, injured animal.

Hermione nodded.

“You can talk, can’t you?” he said with a small sneer.

Her eyes flashed a bit and she lifted her chin defiantly. “Yes. Of course I can talk.”

“Good. I expect you to answer me when I speak to you.”

“Fine,” she said icily.

Oh, he was going to knock a new hole in her. Suddenly he reached out and jerked her tight against his body, his arm wrapped around her waist.

Hermione gasped at the swiftness he exhibited, and the feel of his long, lean body pressed against hers. She felt heat beginning between her legs and she trembled. She looked up at him. She hadn’t realized he was so tall.

Severus looked down at her wide amber eyes. “You’ll get used to this too.”

Then he kissed her.

It was a slow lazy kiss at first. His mouth was softer than she thought it would be. He moved his lips against hers gently, massaging them before slightly opening his mouth and tapping at her lips with his tongue.

Hermione opened her mouth and he slid his tongue inside, running it gently over her tongue. Hesitantly, she returned the gesture. She licked at the hot muscle moving in her mouth, and found she liked it. Liked the taste of him. He tasted like brandy and something sweet…chocolate perhaps. Severus tightened his arm around her waist and deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth deeper and more suggestively. He felt her melt against him, a soft moan escaping her as he explored her mouth. She tasted clean. Like innocence.

His cock strained mutiniously against the restraining waistband as Severus ravaged Hermione’s mouth. She had dropped her overnight bag, and had her arms wrapped like twin snakes around his neck, her hands in his shoulder length hair, pulling him down to give him more access as she pressed her body against him unconsciously. He could feel the heat of her body through his robes, and yes…he could smell her excitement. He pulled himself away with an effort, loosening his grip on her body.

“Your hair’s so soft. It isn’t greasy at all,’ she whispered, her eyes full of wonder.

“Yes. It is the only thing soft about me at the moment.” He tightened his arm around her waist again. “Come, Hermione. There are things to do.”

“What do you mean? Come where?”

”Just hold on to me. We are going to apparate. You didn’t expect to spend the night with me in my rooms here at Hogwarts, did you?”

Hermione blinked up at him, unable to tear her eyes away from his face. How did she ever think this man was ugly? He was beautiful in a masculine way. His alabaster skin was smooth and unmarked, and his face was angular, with high chiseled cheekbones. His piercing onyx eyes were framed by long dark lashes. Even his large, aquiline nose gave his face strength and character.

“I want you,” she breathed…her mouth speaking before her horrified mind could stop it.

”What?” he chuckled deeply. “Oh, Hermione. You’ve got it bad for your Potions Master, don’t you? Not even one question about how I can apparate on the grounds of Hogwarts? Amazing.”

He saw the embarrassment in her eyes before she dropped them.

“Listen,” he said softly. “This is how it is. You can’t stop the words from coming when desire is gripping your body like a vise. You’ll soon see what I mean.” He paused.

“And the reason I can apparate from these rooms is because of my association with the Dark Lord. I have to leave quickly sometimes, and often when I return…”

“You are too hurt to travel from the gates to the castle.” Hermione finished, sympathy on her face.”

Severus looked down at the young witch pressed against his body, and steeled himself. He didn’t need sympathy. Or pity. If anything, she was the one to be pitied.

“Come on,” he said with a hard edge to his voice. “As I said…we have things to do.”

He picked up her bag and they disapparated with a small peal of thunder.

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They reappeared outside a tiny cottage that rested on a cliff overlooking the ocean. There were vines full of small, fragrant flowers that wound around the door, and smoke wafted from the chimney. Gulls rode the wind, crying out like lost children. The air was filled with the sound of the distant waves lapping against the shoreline. Hermione thought it was lovely.

Severus still held her tightly, not taking his eyes off of her as she took in the scenery. Best let her look now, because once she walked through those doors with him, she wouldn’t see daylight until tomorrow. Still, he was pleased that she liked the cottage.

He let her go, and walked to the door, and opened it for her.

“Welcome to my parlor…’ he said.

Hermione thought, said the spider to the fly.

Her legs wouldn’t move.

Severus sighed and walked back to the young woman. He knew his quote had frozen her like a deer in headlights. He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her in, closing the door behind them. He put her bag down, drew out his wand and warded the door, locking it magically and placing a silencing charm around the house itself.

Hermione watched him, and wrapped her arms around herself without realizing it. She knew the motions of a silencing charm, and it unnerved her that he felt it would be necessary. She looked around the cottage. It was one large room with a two large windows that overlooked the ocean.. Along one wall was a small studio kitchen, a cooler and a sit down counter at which to eat. Against another wall was a dresser, a small end table with flowers and a small garbage can. A small lavatory was built into the far corner. A single oak chair stood against the far wall. What dominated the room was a huge four-poster canopy bed, with thick blue bedspread and a large assortment of pillows. She turned to look at Severus, who shrugged and said two words,

“Honeymoon Cottage.”

Severus walked over to the bed, sat on it and bounced experimentally. He knew it was a crass thing to do, but he enjoyed the discomfiture he saw in Hermione’s eyes.

“Come join me?” he said it as a question, but something in his voice let Hermione know it was more of a command. With butterflies whirling madly in her stomach, she walked over and tentatively sat down on the very edge of the bed.

“Are you hungry?” he asked her, letting one long finger trail up and down her forearm. To Hermione it felt as if he were painting her skin with liquid fire.

“No. I…I don’t think I could eat right now,” she said softly. Her hands were beginning to tremble again and she clasped them together.

The trembling didn’t go unnoticed by Severus.

“Good. You’ll be famished later. Now me, I am very hungry…but not for food.”

He leaned in for a kiss.

“Wait,” Hermione said, pulling back from him for a moment.

Severus scowled. “Now’s not the time to have second thoughts, Hermione. Don’t make me ravish you…”

“No. It isn’t anything like that. I do want you, Severus. I’ll do anything you want, but first I want you to do something for me.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” he growled…leaning in again. Hermione stood up and faced him.

No. That’s not what I want…I mean it is…but I need you to perform legilimency on me. Full legilimency.”

“Why?’ he asked, curious now.

“Because I want you to know how much I care about you.”

Severus rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. He had hoped this could occur without her claiming unending love. This was going to be a very pleasant interlude. That’s all.

“Hermione,’ he said in exasperation. I told you there would be nothing more than this…moment we share. I thought you understood that.”

“I do. I do understand that, and accept it. I’m not in love with you, Severus. The last time I saw you, you accused me of being so selfish because I came to you, afraid for you. I admit that I was thinking about … being intimate with you…but I do care what happens to you outside of this. I always have.”

Severus snorted. “I’m sure.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Why would you care, Hermione?”

“Please. Please Severus. Just do it and I promise I won’t refuse you anything.”

“As if I would let you…’ he told her bluntly. “The moment that door was warded, you became mine. I won’t accept anything less than all of you.”

He stood up and walked slowly towards her, his eyes hard and dangerous. She started to back away, but he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her closer.

“Legilimens!” he cried.

Images began to rush through his mind. Him taking points from Gryffindor. Him saying cruel things to her. He could feel the sadness, the anger she felt toward him, and also he could feel her desire to please him, to have him notice her. He moved through her mind, seeing himself as she saw him. And then there was the change, fourth year, her admiration, her fear for him, anger on his behalf, defending him against her best friends. Her loneliness and isolation. His loneliness and isolation. Him in the hospital, and her caressing his brow, comforting him, trying to understand him. He felt the respect, her deep belief in his nobility, the deep concern when he was gone for days. The arguing with the Headmaster about rescuing him. He saw all of that. Then he saw the decision she made, and the courage it took to make it, and then there was an beautiful image of him, then the sharp longing, and burning, and frustration, and the intense desire tearing through her veins…

He pulled back, from her, shaken.

“You saw?” she asked him gently.

He regrouped quickly. “Yes, I saw it all, Hermione. And you are right, you don’t love me…which I find a great relief. But there is something there that…validates this.”

He cocked his head as he looked at her with a strange light in his eyes.

“But you seem to have an extremely romanticized version of me running around in your pretty little head. I assure you, I am not that good and noble. I am a very selfish man…”

He pulled Hermione to him roughly. She could feel his erection under his robes. Gods, he felt huge. Huge!

“A selfish, lecherous man who couldn’t pass up the chance to fuck a supple young woman who I watched grow into her own from a child, a young woman who has no idea what she’s getting into, or what I am capable of….”

He ground himself against her, hard. Then leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I’m going to hurt you, you know,” he growled. “I won’t be able to help myself…”

“It’s ok, Severus. I’ve never read about any woman whose died from it…”

Severus could help shuddering a little. She was so innocent…had no idea of what happened at the Dark Lord’s revel.

Fuck innocence. She wanted this…

He kissed her again. Violently. Weaving his hands into her mane, he pulled her mouth to his and plunged his rigid tongue in and out deeply, mimicking the sex act, growling at the back of his throat. She whimpered as he pulled her tight against him, and marched her backwards until her back met the wall. He ground against her hard, and heard her let out a gutteral groan of desire. She began to babble as his mouth met her throat, his lips and tongue bathing the nape of her neck in lingering burning kisses.

He ran his hands mercilessly over her body, over her hips and thighs, her breasts and back and she arched off the wall into him, pressing against his hardness, her eyes wide open with shock, not at what he was doing to her, but what he was causing to happen inside her. The old ache between her legs came back…and she chanted a mantra of desire beneath his ministration. His face pressed against her throat, he heard her crying out …

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, oh gods yes yes yes

And before he knew it, he was hoisting up her dress, Hermione struggling to help him, her fingers tangling with his, irritating him to the point where he tore the damn thing off her. He stopped to look at her body, and she groaned and tried to arch into him. He held her back as his eyes took in the white lace of her bra, and panties. She looked like an angel, but he could see the devil in her burning eyes…

“Stay there,” he ordered as he began to unbutton his robes. Hermione writhed against the wall impatiently, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside her. Severus got his robes open to the point where he pulled it over his head, and threw it to the floor. He looked at Hermione, her head thrown back against the wall exposing her throat, her eyes rolling wildly, so the whites seem to show…like an over-excited animal. And she was touching herself, running her hands over her body, waiting for him to resume…

“I want to touch you, Severus…” she groaned.

Severus placed his hands on the wall on either side of her head, and leaned closer, not letting his body come in contact with her.

“Go ahead,” He growled. “Touch me.”

Hermione’s hot hands smoothed down his slim but well-muscled chest, around to his neck and back, where she could feel scars criss-crossing his body. Thin ones, thick ones, short and long ones…she explored them all, her hands moving back to his chest, sliding lower over the rippled muscles of his belly…and moving impatiently lower, as Severus hissed and sucked in his breath as her hand grazed over his hard cock still encased in the waistband of his black silk boxers . His intake of breath emboldened her, and she slipped her small hand under the waistband and handled the thick length gingerly, pulling it free and running her fingers over the purple head of it tenderly, letting her hands slip down the shaft, feeling the ridges and veins beneath her palms.

Severus was absolutely still now, his head bent, watching her hands slide over his cock. Her hands, they were so small, and curious…his cock was as wide as all four of her petite fingers put together. Hermione was panting, as her hand slipped down to the base and she felt the delicacy of his balls. She squeezed them lightly and against he shuddered, but this time he thrust forward. She ran her hands back up the shaft and looked into his eyes and said,

“I’m ready Severus…so ready,” and squeezed his shaft and innocently started to jack him off. Severus breathed through his mouth and fought with himself not to take her against the wall, no…no…he wanted to have her under him the first time…like in his first fantasy about her.

“Stop. Stop, Hermione,’ he gasped, reaching down and pulling her hands from around his cock, so swollen, it looked angry.

“No…no…I don’t want to stop,’ she breathed. “Fuck me, me Severus…fuck me like you promised.” She grabbed his ass and pulled him toward her.

He had no idea the little Gryffindor would have such a large passion. She was absolutely wanton. And a virgin…he couldn’t wrap his mind around that concept. He was supposed to be gentle to a virgin, but this woman seemed like a virgin in body only…she knew what she wanted, even though she had never had it…

“He pulled back from her again.

“No…we have to get to the bed. The first time has to be right you should be in a bed. Now stop. Stop. Let me catch my breath.”

Hermimone’s hand dropped back down to his cock. He literally slapped her hands away.

“Ow, ‘ she cried. But it was effective. She leaned back against the wall, just looking at him as if he were made of candy.

He still had his hands resting against the wall around her. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart, as his cock, with a mind of its own, strained toward Hermione. With an effort he stood and walked over to his discarded robe. He pulled his wand from a pocket pointed it at Hermione and said,

“Divesto!”

Her underthings disappeared. She was beautiful, sliding up and down the wall looking for all the world like a true lioness. Severus removed his own clothes and in three quick steps he had scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He was more in control now. Seeing her so hot and bothered and ready, he decided to have a bit more fun frustrating her before he got down to business.

I think since this is your first time, Hermione…we’ll start out with the Missionary position.”

Hermione gasped as Severus dropped her unceremoniously on the bed.

He then stretched his long, muscular body completely on top of her, fitting himself between her legs, his thick, swollen cock pressing long and hard against her belly.

“Now bend your knees,” he whispered looking deep into her uncertain, but hungry eyes. They were moist with desire, her lips were swollen and parted, and she glowed with a slight sheen of sweat.

She obeyed him and pulled her legs up slightly on either side of his. Severus hoisted himself up on his elbows, and rolled his hips a little, eliciting a gasp from her as his trapped penis and balls pressed tight between their bodies.

“This position was very popular with muggles bringing Christianity to the savages.” He said matter-of-factly, as if giving a narrative. What the hell was he doing?

“They were too afraid their god was watching them when they fucked, and didn’t want to do anything to embarrass themselves. Hence, they did it straight up and down, which I imagine, found favor with their lord…”

“Please,” Hermione moaned, eyes slitted with need “Do it, Serverus. No more history lessons…I don’t care how they did it. Or why they did it…

Severus chuckled. She could feel the low, rumbling laughter vibrate against her as he moved lower to position himself to enter her.

“Your intellect is shutting down, Miss Granger.” He whispered throatily, reverting back to her student address while sharing this information.

“Mmm. Good. This is going to be so good,” he groaned to himself, as the head of his cock pressed against her moist pussy. Her body was so hot beneath him, he thought she might burst into flame at any moment. He reached between their bodies, his fingers brushing her soft curls, and gripped his cock, rubbing the tip of his swollen member back and forth over her clit, spreading her wetness over her entire sex. Hermoine sucked in her breath, wriggled and instinctively pushed her hips upward with a broken moan. He almost slipped in, but lifted his hips slightly.

“Impatient,” he breathed. “Don’t worry. You’ll soon get it…all of it.”

He continued to work his cock up and down her moist slit as she bucked, writhed and clutched at him, trying to pull him forward, force him to enter her.

“You want it? You want this?” Severus’ eyes were hard as diamonds as he bucked his hips against her, letting his dick slide up between her nether lips of and through her damp pubic hair

Hermione nodded, her flushed face ripe with invitation.

“Beg for it then. Look at me and beg for it, like you did the night we had our dialogue. I had to fight you off you wanted me to fuck you so badly. Ask me for it, Hermione. Beg me to show you what it’s like to feel me slide my big, thick cock inside you.

Hermione glowered. She wasn’t going to take this. She had waited too damn long for him to start playing games now. The git. She’d show him something about a Gryffindor’s willingness to take the initiative. Taking a deep breath, Hermione suddenly surged upward and twisted her body in an attempt to throw Severus off balance so she might straddle him and get the relief she needed. She was tired of waiting, tired of his cruel teasing. She wanted to be pierced right now, and would take him if he would not take her.

The element of surprise caught the Potions Master off guard for a moment, and his right side slipped to the mattress, so they lay facing each other for a split second, a look of shock on Severus’ face, and one of grim determination on Hermione’s as she struggled to get the upper hand.

Her self-defense training was trying to pay off, but Severus had years of fighting experience under his belt. Hermione attempted to throw one leg over his hip and use the weight of her body to roll him to his back. But he was too quick. He grasped her wrists roughly and using his own body weight, threw her roughly back, flush to the bed. He held her immobile, her arms stretched above her head in a one-handed iron grip as he clambered on top of her, forcing himself between her thighs.

“You little minx,” he snarled as he grasped his cock, found her opening and shoved his full, thick length inside the struggling witch with all his might. Hermione screamed as he brutally tore through her hymen, feeling as if she were being split in half. The pain was unbearable. Then he held still, his face pressed against her throat, and panted heavily as she thrashed beneath him. He had her pinned to the mattress by his body, her hands clutching at his shoulders, attempting to push him away in her pain and panic

“Please! Oh gods, Serverus…you’re tearing me in two!” she cried out.

“That’s the idea,” he growled as he began thrusting savagely inside her, reveling in her slick tightness and cries of pain. He knew those cries would soon change to pleasure. “You wanted this. Here it is. Here…it…is.”

Severus was no poster boy for tender, first-time deflowerment. He had wanted her so badly, and she had begged for him so hungrily, her intense longing magnified via legilimency keeping him up night after night struggling with his own almost constant arousal. He’d had enough waiting. No more.

He rode Hermione mercilessly, slamming his pelvis against hers and ramming his cock deep against her cervix until her initial cries became weak whimpers. He released her arms and grasped her shoulders, grinding her down against him so he could plow even deeper. Oh yes. This was exactly what he had imagined it would be like to fuck her.

Hermione rocked helplessly beneath his strokes, and gave up trying to resist him, letting go and submitting to his wild possession of her body. Every time he hit bottom, he was rewarded with a gasp, or an obscenity. He felt her hips start to rise up to meet his thrusts, finding his rhythm and matching it stroke for delicious stroke. Then she gave herself over to him completely with a shudder, as the walls of her tight cunt started to throb and liquefy, melting around his plunging shaft like hot lava. Her voice began to rise again, this time egging him on, calling his name as she quaked beneath him, alternating between “Severus…Professor …and You Bloody Bastard.” He threw her legs over his shoulders and rose up on his arms so he could watch her both her face and his fevered penetration of her lovely young body. He pummeled her slick orifice with long, hard deep strokes, enjoying the tight caress of her hot, velvet channel along the length of him, increasing his speed until his hips were a blur of motion. Perspiration poured off him, dripping on the supple body jerking rhythmically beneath him. The pleasure was almost unbearable as she gasped beautiful, helpless and wanton beneath him, clutching at his waist, murmuring “Gods…more...” Grunting with each stroke, he gave her all the cock he could.

The brainy, intellectual Hermione was gone now, driven out by the animal that was Severus Snape. He was no longer the pale, greasy git of a Professor that made her life hell for seven years. He was a god of alabaster and stone whom her burning body worshipped as he possessed her with all the power and magnitude of universe bursting into being. Her whole world collapsed and folded in upon itself, the focal point of all existence, reason and rhyme concentrated at the juncture where his thrusting body met hers.

Nothing was left of who she thought she was. She no longer knew where she began and he ended. It was all pain, pleasure, and behind it all, the sweetest yearning she had ever experienced. Her words became unintelligible, but full of meaning, syllables rolling over her tongue like a stream of consciousness rant. Thrusting for all he was worth, Severus didn’t want her to shut up now. This was another kind of classroom. She could talk forever if she wanted to, that secret language of pleasure pouring from her mouth like Pentecost. Ooh, yes. She felt so good under him, her inner flesh soft, yielding and so wet it made sloshing sounds as he bucked and plunged into her. Her hair was plastered to her face from sweat, and her head tossed from side to side in mindless abandon as she spread her thighs as wide as she could to open herself to him more fully. In response, he fucked her harder, his cock so engorged with blood that it felt as rigid and heavy as a stone. His ass pistoned up and down as he labored over her, pulling out fully and burying himself deeper, and deeper, until he was riding the crest of her pleasure to the shore of her wracking first orgasm. The crashing wave of her release hit like a tsunami and she shrieked loud and long as a banshee, wrapping her legs around his waist and thrusting up against him with such strength that his knees came off the bed. He straightened his legs so all his weight and force was concentrated to her core and rode out her pulsing, throbbing tightness. He growled like an animal as her pussy clamped down on him so fiercely that he felt as if his head might pop off. Looking down to where their bodies met, he saw that his cock was covered in the thick milky creaminess of her release. Seeing it almost drove him over the edge. He closed his eyes…it was almost too much.

Not wanting to come yet, Severus slowed his stroke a bit to let her float on that indescribable sea of completeness. She was beautiful. Eyes closed, her chest rising and falling from exertion, she bit her lower lip as she trembled with pleasure. Her arms and legs felt boneless, as she drifted back to earth light as a feather, descending gently, buoyed by a tender breeze of fulfillment. She was not alone though. She felt him with her, still moving, hard yet soft inside her.

“Was that good? Am I what you wanted me to be?” He asked her quietly, looking down at her as he pumped into her almost tenderly.

Hermoine sighed and looked up at him, her amber eyes heavy-lidded and burning like twin suns beneath the dark lashes as he stroked the soft answer from within her

“Yesss. So good, Severus. My gods. You are amazing. I didn’t know…ooh!”

She was cut off by a gasp as the Potions Master slammed her hard with a reactionary thrust, his body quaking as he struggled to hold on. He was unable to stop his body’s reflexive response when she told him how good he was to her. He wanted to hear it again. And again.

Severus groaned, and the Dark Lord himself couldn’t keep him from increasing the pace of his stroke into this luscious woman. But he allowed himself to drop down to kiss her parted lips, and feel her sigh his praises into his open mouth. He tongued her teasingly, exploring her mouth as thoroughly as he explored the depths of her body. Recovering, he moved gently again, satisfied by her satisfaction, the sound of her hoarse, throaty offerings, and little barks of continuing pleasure as she pulled away from his mouth and let her lips covered his face and throat in gentle, kisses. As he slid in and out of her wetness, he made it clear to her he was not done with her, not ready to yield control of her body back to her… not just yet.

The sturdy oak chair that sat against the far wall caught his eye. With a final sharp thrust, he withdrew from Hermione, his cock still rigid and glistening. She let out a cry of disappointment as he rose from the bed and stood beside it, looking down at her. Her eyes raked over his pale, muscular body, then dropped to his huge erection, and she marveled at how she had been able to take it all in. Blood was smeared on his shaft, pelvis and thighs. Noting where she looked, he gave her a slight, sexy leer.

“Cherry juice,” he purred as he slid one finger across his shaft, popped the red-tipped digit into his mouth and sucked it clean with a pop. “Sweet.” His eyes darkened as he pointed to the pinkness that smeared her still spread thighs where the virginal blood had mixed with her thick creamy come.

“Taste for yourself.”

Hermione hesitated, then lowered her hand between her legs and whetted two fingers with her emissions. Never taking her eyes from his, she tentatively brought her hand first to her nose, then slowly slid both fingers into her mouth and flicked her tongue over the pink creaminess. It smelled musky, but tasted clean, crisp and slightly sweet with a metallic edge to it. She sucked her fingertips clean before her eyes widened with surprise, then she dropped them almost shamefully from his hot, intense gaze as she realized how wanton, how licentious she must seem to him.

Severus’ cock bounced involuntarily as he watched Hermione discover the flavor of herself.

When she dropped her eyes, he said gently, “Don’t be ashamed, Hermione. Your come is part of you. You’ve tasted your own tears, your own sweat at one time or another. This is no different but much more significant. You will never, ever have another opportunity to taste that particular flavor of yourself again.”

Hermione’s eyes met his once again. She tried to set up on her elbows, and gave a sharp intake of pain, as the soreness between her legs made itself known. Severus’ brows raised a little.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked, his black eyes looking at the swollen, pink lips of her sex.

“Yes. It does,” she hissed with discomfort.

“That’s the way life is, “ Severus said as he walked over to his discarded robe and reached in the pocket, drawing out a vial full of purple liquid. “Not matter how great its pleasures, there will always be pain.”

He returned to the bedside, sat down and offered the vial to her.

“Here. This will ease the pain, and protect you from conceiving,” he said diffidently.

Hermione took the vial from his hand, uncorked it and drank it straight down. The liquid tasted like a cross between mint and jasmine, with a hint of pepper. In a moment or two the pain subsided, but she still felt a delicious burn deep inside her where his shaft has rubbed her tight walls to a heightened sensitivity. Her relief must have shown on her face, because Severus’ eyes grew dark and hungry again, as he offered his hand for the empty vial.

He tossed the vial into a small garbage can set next to the tall dresser, then walked over to the far wall, where he retrieved the oak chair, and carried it to the center of the room. He set it down facing Hermione, then sat upon it and fixed her with a pointed, lusty look.

“Come here,” he growled, locking his eyes to hers. Hermione felt mesmerized.

“Gods,” she thought. “His eyes look just like the serpent’s eyes in my dream.”

“That’s because I am the serpent in your dream,” he assured her.

Damn legilimens.

Severus actually laughed at her vicious thought. A deep, pleasant laugh that made his eyes crinkle and believe it or not, a dimple crease his left cheek. But he sobered quickly.

“Come here, woman. I have more for you,” he said again, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t make me come and get you.”

Severus’ implied threat was next to useless. He was going to fuck her ten ways this side of Sunday whether she came to him willingly or not.

Hermione rose from the bed and walked slowly toward Severus. His eyes raked across her sex-tousled hair, her full rose-tipped breasts, slim waist, round hips and down the delicious triangle of curled chestnut hair and felt a jolt like lightning hit his balls. Damn, she was one sexy, sexy witch.

“Turn around…slowly,” he said hoarsely.

Hermione stopped and obliged him, turning her back to him slowly, feeling a thrill at his hot gaze on her body. Severus eyed the fullness of her smooth, white buttocks and swallowed back a groan as he pictured her bent over the chair, the milky globes bouncing like jelly as he pounded into her .

“Back up,” he ordered, his voice cracking slightly. He didn’t care.

Hermione felt wetness cream her thighs anew as she stepped backwards and found herself gripped by the hips. She gasped as he gently bit her ass, rolling the flesh gently between his teeth, and running his tongue over the soft, pliant flesh. He continued to bite, lick and kiss her bottom, sliding his hands down to her pussy and playing in the soft curls. Hermione sighed and moved back against him. She was getting so aroused that she brought her hands up to her breasts, and cupped them firmly, rubbing her fingers over her nipples and moaning softly.

“What are you doing?” came Severus’ muffled voice from behind her.

“Touching myself,” she sighed as she worked over her breasts.

“Allow me,” Severus purred as he reached up and palmed both of her breasts, pushing them together then apart, and tweaking her nipples as he ran his tongue lavishly over the small of her back.

“Oh, Merlin,’ she half-sobbed as he continued his ministrations to her breasts, his mouth moving over her lower back and ass. He let one hand slip down between the folds of her pussy and began to massage the harden point of her clit gently.

“Yes,’ he breathed against the curve of her buttock as he pressed a finger inside her. “So wet.”

Hermione’s legs went weak, and she almost collapsed until Severus pulled her back unto his lap, his cock deliciously wedged between her cheeks. She wriggled against it, moaning, and Severus sucked in his breath between clenched teeth.

“You’d better be careful, Hermione. I had decided to save that particular orifice for the lucky man you will, no doubt, one day find, leaving something…er…untouched for that happy union. But if you keep this up…” his voice dropped low as he ended that sentence abruptly and continued in another, more sinister vein… “…believe me, it will hurt like hell, too.”

Hermione winced as she felt the length and thickness of him pressed against her behind, his body tensed like a panther ready to spring. No. She didn’t think she could handle that.

She pulled away from him a bit, showing her reluctance.

“Smart girl.” He said shortly before roughly pushing her to her feet and turning her around to face him. He looked up at her, licking his lips as he focused on her mouth, his hand dropping to grasp and massage his cock unconsciously. His eyes dropped to her mound of hair. He licked his lips thoughtfully, and looked back up at her. He brought up both his hands and stroked the sides of her breasts.

“What to do with you next? I feel like a sugar addict in a sweet shop. So many choices. Bend you over the chair? Fuck your luscious little mouth? Eat you out? Gods, woman…I’m in a quandary.”

Hermoine was so hot she felt her wetness trickling down her thighs. This was not the time for indecision. In a low, throaty voice she said, “Let me choose, Severus. Let me decide what to do next.”

Severus swallowed. Sweet Merlin’s balls, Hermione was certainly a surprise. He took his hands off her delectable body reluctantly, and sat back, letting his arms drop to his sides.

“All right then. Lady’s choice,” he growled in resignation.

Hermione smiled.