Rom To My Private Dungeon

*** Chapter 9 Time stopped and spun out of control all at once as the two merged. Their kiss was so intense as the flood of passion washed over them that they could not tell where one body ended and the other began. Breathless, frantic, lips sucking on lips, hands flying out of control, molten lava lust coursing through their veins and commanding the gravitational pull of their groins to join. Snape's nostrils flared as he eventually broke heavily for a breath. Maracuja held onto his arms to steady herself. She felt light-headed and weak. Snape spied the goblet of potion on the steps and his heart sank. "Not like this" he thought sadly to himself, and within moments his ragged breathing had slowed. But his desire was stronger than his will. He could not walk away. As she looked up into his eyes, a strange fear overtook him. It was the fear of desire when accompanied by hope. It was a feeling he'd not had for so long he thought himself not possible of feeling it again. Lust danced a tango with his insecurity-the two romancing his soul. He caressed her jaw line and smiled shyly. "Ms. Feuer," he started softly, tentatively. But she placed two fingers on his lips and shushed him. She returned his smile sweetly and whispered, "I think you can call me Maracuja." Snape blushed and leaned in for another kiss. This time, as their lips barely touched, his hand left her cheek and journeyed its way over her ear before cradling the back of her head. Slowly, they explored each other...hearts pounding in their ears. . . the softness of lips grazing and quivering. . . tongues coyly playing at entry. . . fingers fluttering nervously in self-conscious hesitation. Was he trembling slightly? She thought, perhaps. Their kiss deepened, he folded his arms around her. Maracuja weakened again as her legs were gently nudged apart by his knee coming between them. His embrace was warm and sensual. Their tongues intertwined as the kiss intensified and their lips fed on one another. "I want you," he whispered in ragged tones. She sucked in a deep breath as his mouth pulled away and his nose caressed her eyelids. Her thighs involuntarily tightened around his in excitement. Snape's confidence returned triple fold. He pulled her closer with his hand on her lower back, and pressed his erection insistently against her hip. She kissed him wildly and moaned in response as the raw excitement growing inside her spread and took over. In a rush of desire and emotion, he gasped, "I want you, Maracuja. I want you," he swallowed. "I want to see your beautiful face as I make you come-by my hands, in my mouth, from being inside you. But I beg you-not like this. When the potion stops flowing through your veins. I want to know that it's real." He squeezed her upper arms and shook her slightly. A wave of panic overtook him, as he awaited her response. Did he really allow himself to be that vulnerable? Maracuja was stunned. Her heart raced as her mind scrambled for a response. She wanted him-NOW. But his compelling plea could not be ignored. "I know what went wrong with the potion, Severus." She uttered. "I know, and I know this is real. And I like you. And I want you. The universe brought me here to you." She paused and looked into his expectant eyes. "But I will wait." A thrill of panic and joy swept through him. "She knew. She knows. She came here for me. It's not just the potion. " "Would, shu, would you care for a dance?" he managed to stammer in response. "I would love that," she answered, a great smile overtaking her face. The stars in the sky twinkled in support. In one smooth gesture, Snape scooped her up in his arms and carried her back inside. She felt joyous and light, like a princess-one arm cradling her back and the other in the crook of her knees. She wrapped her hands around his neck to hold on, her feet playfully dangling in the air. Identical smiles crept on their faces as she rested her head on his chest. The party had started to empty moments before they re-entered. Couples were finding their way up to their rooms or out the front door, too involved in themselves to notice Snape and Maracuja returning. Yet, the music seemed to slow down as they made their way across the room and onto the dance floor. He gently placed her down, but her arms never let go of his neck as they naturally gravitated into each other's body. Their hips moved as one to the music, they did not seem to notice as the last remaining attendees pointed, whispered and tip-toed out of the room. Slowly they swayed, breathing in unison, bodies melded into one another. The sound of violins and accordions filled the air. They rocked back and forth, no particular dance steps but that of new lovers in thrall to the commands of new passion. The music played softly, just for them. "That one is my favourite," he whispered in her ear at one point. A shiver went down her spine as she remembered those words from her dream. Dawn broke through the windows when they finally opened their eyes to peer around the room. Torturously they separated, but held hands as they walked out. A house elf snuck across the room to turn off the wizarding wireless. Only he knew that a certain wise wizard had placed a spell upon it earlier. They walked hand in hand as Snape led her silently back to her quarters. When they arrived there, she leaned her back against the door and he came in close to kiss her once again. Languorously, they said their good-byes. Driven by desire and the thought that he'd be leaving her, he cupped her bottom with one hand and with the other dragged his thumb across one of her nipples. Maracuja's back arched in response to his touch. A guttural groan escaped her throat. They kissed one last desperate kiss and gasped for air. "Tomorrow" he managed to stammer. Their bodies protested fiercely as he forcibly prised himself away. "Tomorrow" she echoed, and quickly slipped through the crack in the door. *** Snape practically flew down the stairs to his dungeon quarters, desperate to put as much distance as possible between them before he did anything he might regret. He quickly removed the wards and flung open his door. He was too wired and too aroused to sleep or even to think clearly. Tossing his wand onto a bedside table, he tore off his robes and frock coat before kicking off his shoes. He glanced at himself in the mirror as he began to unbutton his shirt. He face was flushed and his hair looked almost windswept. Glancing down, he could see his raging hard-on was forcing its way out into view. Tossing his shirt to the floor, he unbuttoned his trousers in a hurry and watched as it sprung toward freedom and then stood defiantly at attention, bobbing up and down. "Look at yourself, you pathetic bastard," he sneered at his own image. Snape stepped out of his pants and grabbed his shaft roughly with one hand. He stroked himself quickly as he watched himself in the mirror. His eyes played games with his mind as his sight danced from the grimacing tortured man in the mirror to visions of her face and body. He looked scornfully upon the pale skinny man before him in the mirror. "You will be lucky if she still finds you attractive tomorrow," he sneered again, and drew his gaze away from the much faded mark on his left forearm. But his erection, the solid flesh weighty in his hand, still demanded attention. Closing his eyes, he increased the pressure on his shaft and found his way to his bed while still pleasuring himself. Now lying on his back, he pinched one nipple hard and licked his lips. His hand continued its rhythmic, insistent stroking up and down his cock. Precum leaked out his purple, swollen head and his heels dug into the mattress. A stream of undirected thoughts flashed through his mind. "her face...her lips...her breasts...her kiss..." He groaned a hoarse laugh as he recalled her telling someone off. Then just as quickly she was smiling at him, then pressed against him, then kissing him. Her body was pliant under his command. His stroking increased in speed and grew louder as his mind's eye saw her expose her breasts. His mouth sucked one nipple while his hand played with the other. Snape's excitement grew at the surprising sound of his own voice "Uhn...uhn...Maracuja..." She was pushing him against the wall, wrapping her hot mouth around his erection and sucking eagerly. "Oh god...oh sweet Merlin..." now he was fingering her, her vagina slippery and fragrant. "Mmm...mmm...mmmaaaaahh..." and she was riding him, tossing her hair, smiling wickedly and pinching his nipples as she came. Snape's body stiffened and convulsed as he gave one last tug, that final vision sending him over the edge. Cum shot out of him like a bullet and exploded over his chest. He lay on his bed panting, drenched in sweat. As the tingling in his limbs slowly started to fade, he groped blindly around for his shirt, which had landed near the far edge of the bed. His fingers clasped around the white fabric as he drew it up to his chest to wipe off the sticky liquid before throwing it onto the floor, uncharacteristically mindless of the mess he'd created. Shortly, his breathing slowed down to a slow rhythm. His mind went blank as exhaustion claimed his body. He hadn't come that hard in years. The early morning hours were singing their siren song as his eyelids glued shut and he felt the sensation of his head plunging backwards deeper into the pillow. Sweet peaceful sleep crept its way up to take him, only to be jarred by a sudden something dripping wet and thick onto his nose and lips. Summoning strength he wasn't aware he possessed, he opened his eyes to see, up on the bed canopy above him, gravity taking control of the remains of his orgasm, as the cum which had splattered there started to drip downwards. He licked his lips and wiped his nose unconsciously with his hand, rolled over and passed out. **** Maracuja closed the door behind her and spun around the room. Joy radiated from every pore as the aroused smile on her face competed with the candles to light up the room. She stretched and made her way out of her robes. Holding them up to her face, she could still smell him on them, and it heightened her arousal. Her legs crossed involuntarily as she felt the aching dampness between them. Giving into the feeling, she rocked back and forth momentarily before dropping her robes and divesting herself of her undergarments. Maracuja went to the bathroom and tossed cold water on her face. A quick sprinkling of make-up removal draught left her feeling clean and invigorated. She danced over to the bed and jumped into it. Kicking down the sheets, she stroked upwards from her thighs to her breasts, imagining they were his hands instead of her own. She swooned at the memory of him carrying her in his arms. "Oh, I did not dream he could be so romantic," she thought. "That voice, oh, his kiss. Those strong yet graceful hands." She cupped her breasts and gave them a squeeze, then closed her eyes and felt his hot breath on her. He was leaning over her, stroking her breasts then kissing her and stroking himself. His hair cascaded down and curtained her face. Her hands moved lower, "You are so wet," he whispered, and began circling her clit with one finger. She could feel his hair brushing against her stomach, tickling her gently, as he nuzzled his nose between her lips and licked while inserting a finger. She groaned, the circling motion increasing. Soon her legs were far apart, her pelvis rocking back and forth. Faster and faster, stroking her nub, she became wetter and tenser. Her legs quivered. The tension in her abdomen increased. "I want you" she heard him whisper over and over in her ear. . . I want you. . . to see you come by my hand. . . to feel you. . . inside me. . . her voice, his voice. . . the room spun. . .that one delicate finger, circles grinding into her, went faster and faster until her body stiffened. A spark went off and a wave of orgasm rolled up from her toes to her head, the blood rushing in her ears. She rolled to one side and hugged the pillow, her legs curled up in a foetal position. Spent, she drifted off to sleep, fantasizing that the pillow was him in her arms. ****