My sweet wife, my Hermione;
Darling one, read my words and hear my dark heart speak of a love that will only ever be yours; a love that will never leave you. I cannot tear myself away from thinking of your soft skin; your riotous chocolate curls that always seem to snarl around my fingers in such an endearing way. Even your soft snores and your quiet stealing of the bedcovers in the night are to me, charming in their own way. Your compassion is unmatched by any I've met, and your patience is limitless. Everything about you, my lovely, is the embodiment of perfection in my eyes.
Your eyes captivate me; deep, amber pools that entrance and tease, combined with your gently swaying hips and delicate ankles that flirt with my gaze no matter what you are wearing. The way you nibble on your lower lip while you're thinking begs me to take it myself, to plunder your mouth until you squirm and writhe against me. Your tender breasts entice me so easily; it is honestly a little embarrassing. They fit perfectly into my hands, the dusky nipples almost able to cut diamonds after the lightest of touches. You are so sensitive my darling, that the barest of caresses and a few whispered words have you bucking against my hands, whimpering into my mouth.
By now, just reading these few words will have had you blushing deeply, your teeth sinking into that perfect lip of yours as that flimsy lingerie you seem to favour becomes slowly damper with your essence. Tell me my love, are you wet for me? Is your delicate flower dampening with that moisture I have come to crave, on my fingers, my tongue, and my cock? You taste utterly delicious my love, a delicacy I have come to adore. Maybe, when we meet again, I will place your creamy thighs on my shoulders and bathe your kitty with my mouth, until you come screaming on my tongue. Perhaps I'll suckle on your clit until you buck your hips against my mouth, shrieking with orgasm. Or I could slam you against the wall the moment I arrive, taking you roughly enough to shake the pictures from the walls and make you rake your nails down my back, leaving those stripes you're always so proud of.
My little love, I cannot wait until I can see you again. A week more, and I will be home with you, and I promise I will never have to leave you again. My wife, my beautiful Hermione, I can never tell you how much I love you, although I am rarely demonstrative about it. This letter may be as emotional as I get, I'm afraid. But never let it be said that I don't care about you. You are the light of my life.
Only yours, now and forever,
Severus