Just You Wait

Chapter 9 - The Bedroom

The Flower Market

Hermione had thought that, by the end of the evening, her nerves would be so over-stimulated that they'd be numb. No such luck. Her brain was - numb that is - after all the inane conversation she'd endured; not that that was any help.

The last fifteen minutes at the party had been like a dream. Severus stood in the corner by the punch bowl just watching her, with those eyes that said so much, teasing her with a promise of release but not saying when, and drinking in her discomfort as she ducked and parried in her conversations with seemingly every person in the wizarding world she'd ever known.

When he finally appeared at her side, with her cloak on his arm, she practically fainted with relief. Poor Percy Weasley; she'd have to owl him and apologise for her abruptness, she didn't even remember saying anything to him by way of farewell as her husband steered her out of the room.

She remembered whispering to Severus that she couldn't Apparate, and feeling his arms tight around her as they swirled through space-time supported by his physical and magical strength. Perhaps as a hold-over from his spying days, he never liked to Apparate directly into a house, even if it was his own. He practically carried her up the stoop and through the warded doors of Snape Manor - and he did in fact carry her up the stairs, placing her gently on her feet on the floor of their large, soothingly-furnished bedroom. She stood, immobile with relief, and waited while her husband despatched their cloaks.

Severus walked up behind her and began to tenderly caress her shoulders and back. When his arms snaked around her waist and he started placing gentle kisses behind her ear and in the crook of her neck, she leaned against him heavily and groaned. All of a sudden, it was as though she'd been hit with a Jelly-Legs jinx - after their amazing sex, and then what she had endured for the rest of the night, she thought she couldn't stay upright for another second.

"Just a few more minutes, darling, that's a girl," her husband whispered in her ear, while continuing his gentle caresses, stroking her hands and fingertips, her belly, the soft skin of her exposed décolletage, and, finally, her lovely little breasts that fit perfectly into his hands. "How did you enjoy your evening, my dear," he murmured in his deepest, sexiest voice, while he nuzzled her hair and pulled her body to him.

"Mngnh..." was what passed for a reply these days, which was lucky, because that was all he was going to get. On top of her excruciating arousal, every time he used that voice, no, that voice, she felt her clit swell like a balloon that was receiving its final, fateful breath. Now I know how those guys feel at the hot-dog eat-offs...the first twelve, well, that's just full. The next twelve, you don't notice, because you're in the zone. The last three, you think, now how in the hell am I ever going to expand enough to fit these...and what's going to happen if I can't? She just prayed that he'd shut the **** up from now on. Otherwise, she wouldn't be responsible for the consequences.

"Severus, please...take me to bed," she whispered into his jaw. Hermione leaned her head back onto her husband's shoulder, and basked in the enjoyable sensation of resting herself against his strong, firm, trustworthy, dependable, sadistic self. An unexpected side-benefit she'd found to being married was the pleasure of having someone tall and strong to lean on.

"Patience, my wife. If I'm going to please you, I need some time to ... recover. I'm not as young as I used to be." At this, Hermione snorted derisively. What did he think she'd been sidling up against these past few minutes? It was obvious that he didn't need any `time' for anything other than to prolong her agony. She told him so.

Instead of replying, he began to slowly unfasten the hooks of her gown. As each degree of flesh was exposed by the retreating velvet, Severus anointed her with kisses and strokes of his fingers. When all the clips were open, he slid the dress slowly off her shoulders and it slipped to her feet. Growling with appreciation, he trailed his lips and tongue in a pattern across the back of her shoulders and neck, while exploring the soft skin of her arms with his fingertips. Hermione closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure, enjoying the feeling of her husband's caresses as his hands moved over her body.

There was something so sexy about the feeling of his hands through the stiff undergarment that held her up and in - pressing himself against her back as he had earlier in the parlour, he moved his hands over the thick fabric, resting them again just below her breasts that ached for his touch. Moving his thumbs and fingers in small circles over her ribcage, he murmured "Aren't you something. Tell me: What is it you want my dear?" and tormented her further by taking her left earlobe gently between his lips.

"Please... touch - my breasts..." - her words were sighs, and she responded with a guttural groan when he obliged her, sliding his fingertips, fingers, and finally his whole hands up over the tender, perfectly-formed globes. "Hmmm..." he said into her ear in a voice of desire and appreciation. Her world became a blur of hands and mouth as he continued to find all her most sensitive places.

Curling his fingers teasingly in the triangle of brown hair at the top of her thighs, he began to take off her corset one-handed. How does he do that? She leaned against his shoulder for balance as the little hooks yielded to his fingers and the garment was finally discarded.

"What have we here?" he asked rhetorically as he tugged gently on the wet curls. "Ah yes, I forgot that I took your panties. Here they are," he said with a devilish little laugh, retrieving the small triangle of creamy satin from one of the pockets of his robes. "Shall I put them back on you? No? Well, then, to bed with you!" With his hands almost encircling her waist, he picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously onto their big four-poster.

After the rigid confinement of her corset, the soft, cool silk of the coverlet was an almost psychedelic pleasure. Flipping onto her back and kicking off her red sandals, she rolled and wriggled on the smooth fabric until it had played itself across every inch of her bare skin. She stilled with more than a little self-consciousness when she noticed her husband watching her with a gleam of predatory appreciation in his bottomless black eyes. "Don't stop, my love, you look...positively...edible."

I'm An Ordinary Man

Severus Snape was still fully clothed. Calmly watching the squirmy little kitten on the bed, he unfastened and removed his dress-robes, under which he was clad in a slightly-finer (but otherwise identical) version of his usual school attire. Before hanging his robes and jacket over the back of a chair, he retrieved the small vial of oil from a pocket and placed it carefully on the table by the bed. He allowed himself a small smile as Hermione groaned at the sight and made a face at him.

Dressed in his shirt-sleeves (but a very well-made shirt, mind), he removed his shoes and unfastened his cuffs and collar. The movement on the bed had ceased, and he was pleased to observe his lovely wife eying him warily, and nervously picking at the fabric of the bedcovers with her fingers.

Hermione was so beautiful, he loved her so much; looking at her made his heart feel heavy in his chest. It had ceased to be a surprise to him, the lengths to which he'd go to please her. It still surprised him, how much it pleased him to make her happy. Tonight, he was very very pleased.

Now, after all the buttons he'd been pushing on her all night, it was time to love her the way she deserved.

With a little wave, the Headmaster motioned his wife over to the side of the bed, and stretched himself out beside her. In spite of having filled out over the last few years (a bit after the defeat of Voldemort, a great deal more after his marriage), he was still quite slim and wiry; and in his rumpled but still-crisp white shirt, fitted black trousers and bare feet - on his side, chin in hand, ankles crossed, smelling of sex, cologne and man - he made a magnificent and incredibly desirable package.

He ran his left hand through his hair and then placed it gently on the bare tummy of his bride. For a long moment they lay perfectly still, just looking at each other. Then Severus rolled Hermione over and began to caress her body, gently but firmly, starting with her shoulders. He stroked the soft skin with a flat palm, making his way down her back and arms in wide circles, paying particular attention to the curves of her elbows and waist. The muscles and flesh were firm but yielding, particularly her tender bottom, which he squeezed and fondled before brushing his hands in long stokes down her thighs. His touch had a calming effect, mimicking the sensual feel of the silk coverlet beneath her. The caresses of her husband's strong hands, almost a massage, served to take her mind somewhat off her condition; but she was glad that when he pronounced her done, he rolled her over and started on her front.

Looking at her husband's face, Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat at the wellspring of lust and passion she saw there. With an involuntary movement, she rubbed her thighs together to try to ease her agony, and Severus responded with a gleam of humour and approval in his dark eyes. In character even under these circumstances, his face remained quite impassive, which only served to heighten the effect of the epic that he told with his eyes.

Resting his arm on her chest, Severus ran his fingertips over her lips, regarding her with a look of utter adoration. "So soft..." he murmured, before capturing her chin with the pads of his fingers and kissing her gently on the mouth.

As Severus slid his hand down to rest on her throat, he explored his wife's mouth with the most exquisite kisses she had ever experienced. His sexy smell and nearness made her almost suffocate with lust, as he slowly excavated her with his lips and tongue.

He first kissed her upper lip, sucking it gently into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth; then he captured her full, swollen lower lip in the same manner, playing across it with the tip of his tongue. He was so gentle, covering her mouth with his in softness, coaxing her tongue into his mouth and stroking and teasing it with his own.

As he kissed her, his hand slid down to squeeze and hold her breasts, and as Hermione arched up into his hand and mouth, he groaned deep in his chest and pressed his erection against her hip, making her shudder with longing. Up to now, her arms had lain passive at her sides, but in her need she reached out and caressed his chest through his shirt, then reached down to unfasten the front of his trousers. Wiggling and pressing against him, she touched the bulge pushing against her, and whimpered. To her delight and surprise, he rolled easily on top of her and ground his hips into hers, grasping her wrists and holding them over her head. With his weight settling pleasurably on her, she sighed in satisfaction and tried vainly to twist her legs out from under him so that she could wrap them around his waist.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?" he said as he squeezed her legs between his, immobilising her. "I am nowhere near finished with you yet." He rolled off her, still holding her arms. "I sincerely hope that I won't have to restrain you - but trust me, I will if I have to." His dark chocolate voice close in her ear, combined with the provocative cast to his lean body, left her struggling not to squirm. She looked at him with a combination of plea and defiance. "Do you promise to be a good girl? No playing with me until I say so, understood?" At her nod, he let go her wrists and settled himself beside her in his former position. "Now where were we...?"