It was like a strange case of deja vu. He could hear her coming, those sharp, bold heels calling out to him from their anxious march against the stone, her coak billowing slightly in the windless passage. He almost didn't believe it, and yet instinct had him rearranging his files into one hand, which he then pressed against his side. When he felt the small, yet strong hand gripping his robes, pulling him on with her momentum, he found himself befuddled, as well as amused. As they had several times before, the pair twirled in a private dance, before they crashed against the wall. Severus was never one to be taken advantage of, so he kept the roll, stopping himself with a hand, standing over the mischeivous witch as he had so often in Hogwarts. She had no mask, and was now considerably more mature, her bosom blossomed, swelling with the excitement of the chase, her bright teeth biting her bottom lip, painted in sanguine scarlet. Her dark eyes glittered charmingly from the firelight as her slick pink tongue slipped out in temptation.
"Well, well, well," she purred, grabbing handfuls of his robe and pulling him close - he didn't stop her but cooperated, cocking his head to the side, taking her in curiously. "If it isn't Severus Snape. Curious seeing you here." She moved her lips seductively against what flesh was still unguarded by his mask - the white, slender form of his neck. A hand ventured to move his dark hair aside as she kissed it with a sloppy sound.
To be honest, it'd been a while since he'd been manhandled, if that was the term, in such a way, and he had to admit, it had him bothered, in more than one way. Still, it'd been so long... His legs folded slightly, and he bent closer, his heart starting to race as he cleared his throat while he tried to clear his mind. "Whatever would make you think I was Severus Snape?" he managed, knowing damn well that his voice was weaker than usual, but would she know that? Regardless, she gave a breathy chuckle, and he quite definitely felt his eyes roll in the back of his head. While one hand caressed the nape of his neck, teasing the collar away so that her tongue could reach farther the other went south in search of the parting of his cloak. He wondered if the lowering had been conscious or not as his grip began to slack on his paperwork. He futilely told his muscles that they would regret it if they dropped those, but his blood was flowing elsewheres. Her hand found a way in, and then straight to a slack-draped thigh, and he could scarcely hear the parchment fluttering. With experience - some bright idea in the back of his head decided to remind him she was a Mrs. LeStrange now, but the focus was more on the experience status than the surname - she clasped a hand to his crotch, and he let out a huge gasp.
"Oh my..." she teased, pulling away, she backed herself against the wall with delight. Who had the blackmail now? he vaguely thought. Although it was more of a remnant of his deja vu - although this definitely had not happened before. As she gently scratched a clawed hand up his member, his second hand met his first to slam against the stone to hold his now shaking body up, his own long, slender fingers curling at the intensity of feeling. She decided to screw the neck, and instead pried off his mask, letting it, too, clatter to the ground. His mouth was agape and gasping, while his eyes held a darkness that wasn't unfamiliar, although she'd never seen him this intense... She gave the delicious, dangerous, seductive smile he'd ever seen, and then those lips were on his, and he was totally and completely hers, even as her tongue gained entrance without even needing to so much as ask. Neglected, his own reached out for comfort, but she had only desire. With a clawed hand at his neck, she pulled him on top of her, and he could feel himself melt. His hands were scratching at stone, yet his whole body burned as she moved her hand between them, her own breathing quickening as she devoured him as much as she could. It was like nothing he'd ever had before, nothing like their lusty make-out sessions in school - there was no Rudy, no fickle boyfriends here for him to torment. This was solely them, and that was both startling, frightening, and fascinating, although he couldn't even realise it at the moment. When she withdrew, and then pushed him off of her, his gasp was one of surprise, longing, despair.
She lay against the wall for a moment, catching her breath, wiping her lips with the back of a velveted arm, her eyes watching him, also aware that their relationship had changed. Also... that she had him stunned. This time, there was no good reason for her to be doing this. Not that she ever really needed one, but there always had been. She smirked as she realised Snape had probably thought for all of these years that she'd visited him because she was tired of Rudy, when in actuality she got tired of Rudy because she wanted him...
Oh, I've got you now, boy, she thought to herself, grabbing his arm as she chose a direction. Pulsing and hardly human, he blundered after her, feeling very much like he was floating in a fuzzy red cloud of something he hadn't had the opportunity to venture into in a while, and he found that the rest of him quite liked it.