A Dozen Measured Breaths
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
5,911
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
5,911
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Dozen Measured Breaths
A DOZEN MEASURED BREATHS
“Miss Granger?”
If there were such a thing as liquid speech, this voice might embody it. She turned her face to it while keeping her eyes tightly shut against the intense stare that accompanied it. “Sir.”
“Better… but I believe I asked you a direct question, Miss Granger.”
She counted out time in carefully controlled breathing. One lungful, two lungfuls, three lungfuls. “Yes, Sir. You did.” Four lungfuls, five lungfuls, six lungfuls. “No, Sir.”
She opened her eyes, wide and brown. The purposeful and direct look seemed only to antagonize him. He gripped her small defiant chin in one hand, placing the other behind her head.
“NO?” he bellowed. “You would add lies to your growing list of transgressions?”
Every inch of her body cried out to acquiesce. To say whatever would put an end to the wrongness and sudden fear of this exchange. This man should command confidence and disgust, not fear.
Tables had most decidedly turned against her. She tried in vain to imagine the reason, there had been a reason. It had been sweet and slightly innocent. Warm? A reason made of charm and frustration, woven through with the spice of variety and the safety of home.
“Please Sir, it isn’t a lie. No, I did not do this to hurt your pride.”
Reason. Upon another life she knew reason and laughter. In this place, there was only survival. Seven lungfuls, eight lungfuls, nine. A measured grace, but one to hold and comfort. “I didn’t think of you at all.” She wanted to add that he didn’t figure in her reason. Reason cancelled out the need of him, in fact. Made him non-existent and somehow banished.
With a sickening pull his fingers forced his way into her mouth. Moist, full lips parted to allow a pale and oddly smooth digit. Two, three, four found their way into her mouth before she bit down in defense. He pulled her jaw down and hissed.
“It is awfully cold outside tonight, isn’t it Miss Granger?”
Veiled threat was all it took to secure her continued compliance. Reason reared his curly brown head, mournful eyes of her imagination pleading, ‘understand…’
“You cannot imagine that he loves you,” the repulsive greasy head tipped back in hearty laugher. A row of crooked and yellowed teeth bared themselves with calculated malice. “If so, Miss Granger, then where is your precious love now? Ah, but he is safe and warm in his home, as you are finally in yours.”
“I am, Sir. Where I belong.”
Strong fingers stroked her cheek, coaxing her mouth lax. He wanted her willing, humiliated, broken. As she had taken him so many nights before. The silken pads of his fingers traced the line of her jaw, his derisive breath stirring her hair. “Do you wish an answer to your question?”
She nodded weakly. Every muscle in her body tensed for flight, while the last vestiges of fight drained from her heart. She waged all that she was on his answer, knowing that the question alone had robbed her of something precious.
She felt the lank hair brush her forehead as he nodded, parting her mouth with his hard cock. “How would you thank me for my generosity?”
Ten lungfuls, eleven lungfuls, twelve lungfuls. She opened in submission to her husband. “Suck it, like the whore that you are,” he growled in low tones as he wrenched at her hair with one strong hand.
Even strokes tore at the corners of her mouth. As reason drifted further to the edges of her mind, a vow tore a hole through her being. Patience and love, cornerstones of freedom, the base of her self drummed a steady beat into her hollow and empty chest.
A drop of sweat hit her forehead before he pulled himself from her mouth, depositing the salty remains of his aggression on her neck. “Mmm, you do have a sweet mouth,” he said.
She looked up with a direct and even stare. “Such dull brown eyes, though. Pity.”
“Miss Granger?”
If there were such a thing as liquid speech, this voice might embody it. She turned her face to it while keeping her eyes tightly shut against the intense stare that accompanied it. “Sir.”
“Better… but I believe I asked you a direct question, Miss Granger.”
She counted out time in carefully controlled breathing. One lungful, two lungfuls, three lungfuls. “Yes, Sir. You did.” Four lungfuls, five lungfuls, six lungfuls. “No, Sir.”
She opened her eyes, wide and brown. The purposeful and direct look seemed only to antagonize him. He gripped her small defiant chin in one hand, placing the other behind her head.
“NO?” he bellowed. “You would add lies to your growing list of transgressions?”
Every inch of her body cried out to acquiesce. To say whatever would put an end to the wrongness and sudden fear of this exchange. This man should command confidence and disgust, not fear.
Tables had most decidedly turned against her. She tried in vain to imagine the reason, there had been a reason. It had been sweet and slightly innocent. Warm? A reason made of charm and frustration, woven through with the spice of variety and the safety of home.
“Please Sir, it isn’t a lie. No, I did not do this to hurt your pride.”
Reason. Upon another life she knew reason and laughter. In this place, there was only survival. Seven lungfuls, eight lungfuls, nine. A measured grace, but one to hold and comfort. “I didn’t think of you at all.” She wanted to add that he didn’t figure in her reason. Reason cancelled out the need of him, in fact. Made him non-existent and somehow banished.
With a sickening pull his fingers forced his way into her mouth. Moist, full lips parted to allow a pale and oddly smooth digit. Two, three, four found their way into her mouth before she bit down in defense. He pulled her jaw down and hissed.
“It is awfully cold outside tonight, isn’t it Miss Granger?”
Veiled threat was all it took to secure her continued compliance. Reason reared his curly brown head, mournful eyes of her imagination pleading, ‘understand…’
“You cannot imagine that he loves you,” the repulsive greasy head tipped back in hearty laugher. A row of crooked and yellowed teeth bared themselves with calculated malice. “If so, Miss Granger, then where is your precious love now? Ah, but he is safe and warm in his home, as you are finally in yours.”
“I am, Sir. Where I belong.”
Strong fingers stroked her cheek, coaxing her mouth lax. He wanted her willing, humiliated, broken. As she had taken him so many nights before. The silken pads of his fingers traced the line of her jaw, his derisive breath stirring her hair. “Do you wish an answer to your question?”
She nodded weakly. Every muscle in her body tensed for flight, while the last vestiges of fight drained from her heart. She waged all that she was on his answer, knowing that the question alone had robbed her of something precious.
She felt the lank hair brush her forehead as he nodded, parting her mouth with his hard cock. “How would you thank me for my generosity?”
Ten lungfuls, eleven lungfuls, twelve lungfuls. She opened in submission to her husband. “Suck it, like the whore that you are,” he growled in low tones as he wrenched at her hair with one strong hand.
Even strokes tore at the corners of her mouth. As reason drifted further to the edges of her mind, a vow tore a hole through her being. Patience and love, cornerstones of freedom, the base of her self drummed a steady beat into her hollow and empty chest.
A drop of sweat hit her forehead before he pulled himself from her mouth, depositing the salty remains of his aggression on her neck. “Mmm, you do have a sweet mouth,” he said.
She looked up with a direct and even stare. “Such dull brown eyes, though. Pity.”