A/N: Here's Part/Chapter two of Sadist, enjoy!

Some of her scented tresses slipped free of their pins, touching her shoulders and through the dim glow of the dungeons you could seethe soft swell of her breasts and the peaks of her nipples pressing against the tight fabric. In a flash the capable hands she'd always so admired were pulling her in and before she could blink she was in his lap looking first confused, then shocked and a bit outraged. "You can't-" The ex spy just laughed low, cutting her off. "I not only can, I will," Severus Snape smirked, adding, "My dear insufferable know-it-all, you've completed all the requirements fitting a N.E.W.T's level class and mastered the curriculum ahead of all your classmates. And what do you think that little project you completed last detention was if not an assessment? Even if the results, which I'm sure we both know were more than adequate enough to pass, don't arrive for another week or so… I believe that elevates you from the rank student in my class." Heart racing, breath becoming erratic as his fingers encircled her wrists [effectively pinning her with her body pressed between him and the desk], her mind was near paralyzed by the realization.

"You play with fire," he breathed into her dainty, shell-like ear. "It is not a sport in which I often indulge. But tonight I am convinced that some flames are worth the risk." His face stroked along the expanse of skin between neck and shoulder in the merest of caresses as he breathed in. "Delicious," he said softly, nipping along the smooth expanse of skin. Hermione shivered, head falling back helplessly with eyes tightly shut as he trailed his tongue lower. When she felt his palm close over her left breast, surprise and pleasure rushed through her. A strange, delicious tension grew inside her. And with a whisper that raised goose-bumps and had her body clenching in desire, she felt wards of privacy and silence ripple into effect around the room. 'Damn his clever hide,' came the thought as her breath hissed out of her in response to his actions, swallowing hard. His hot mouth closed around one nipple through the fabric of her thin shirt and she arched upwards desperately, as if to fight the, strong visceral reaction. He sucked demandingly and she felt her body pulse, but just as she felt herself almost close to giving into it he pulled back and followed with a stinging kiss just above her breastbone. 'Fool,' she thought to herself with a moan, 'thinking to tease a man who could give the Marquis de Sade himself lessons.'

One who survived 20 years under Voldemort. The young witch bit her lip, shifting almost helplessly in his lap where she half-straddled him, legs locked around his. A craving so powerful it threatened to consume her thundered in her veins and her nails bit into his shoulders. The obvious proof of his own desire was like a brand against her but his pace was almost leisurely, which drove her crazy. Several long luxurious curls fell over her shoulder as her head rolled and her smoky eyes slowly opened, languorous yet slightly calculating. She wasn't without ammo yet, she realized, licking her lips. She grinned as she nipped his ear and he jolted, giving her room to [with a quiet strength and great flexibility] rotate her arms and free her hands. In one smooth motion from that to grabbing her make-shift hair band and enlarging it to fit his wrists, Hermione was able to pin Severus. 'Points to me for being prepared,' she sing-songed in her head, eyeing the item she'd gotten from the Weasley Twins shop with satisfaction. Padded cuffs that absorbed charms only to emit a shock in response to 'finite', 'libris' or like resistance spells… kinda working off the idea of Chinese finger-cuffs. A very useful multi-purpose invention. Slim fingers ghosting through his surprisingly silky raven locks to his cool, smooth cheek to brush the high-collar of his soft robes, she suddenly tightened her grasp around it and used it to pull him roughly into a passionate, punishing kiss. Laughter dangling from the hinges of her mocking smile, she trailed a single finger down the shiny row of buttons holding the fabric together and they fell open.

"I really ought to thank you, professor," Hermione said in a dark velvet purr, "For being so delightfully… thorough in your lessons. Though I can imagine they weren't intended towards such a use." The unsealing charm, in fact, was created for the opening of moderately difficult enchanted tomes or drawers or other such things for spies. And his tutorials in occlumency, wandless magic, and the like [which the Headmaster had practically insisted on last year to aide their cause] were, of course, priceless. Spreading it over his broad shoulders and away from the rest of his yet clothed, lean body, it hung down over his hands to the floor. She hummed her approval at what she'd uncovered, drawing her fingertips down his bare chest, entranced by the sensual feel of his firm skin and the texture of the sparse hair covering it. Though years enclosed in labs and away from the sun made him moonlight pale, she saw it by no means affected his physique. His response encouraged her to move her palm lower, gliding across the sleekly muscled expanse of exposed skin until she was stopped by the edge of his trousers. Unable to resist, she mimicked Severus's opening gesture by nuzzling his neck and tasting the proffered flesh.

She found his spicy scent set her ablaze- and he was a tall drink of water. This could quickly become an addiction, she thought ravenously, shivering with need and subconsciously grinding into his growing erection. Her now mind centered on her new obsession rather than his, her hands fisted in his glorious hair and she feasted on his neck some more before moving onto his chest. She was hardly aware when she ripped the fine cotton shirt to further her exploration, but soon it hung down to the floor to and her hands hovered at the waistband of his leather [leather?] pants. So focused on the impression of his bare chest against hers and the fire in her loins, Hermione didn't stop to wonder that her shirt had gone missing in the process. Or that there was suddenly a pair of slightly callused hands on her back… Then out of nowhere she felt his body surge upwards, desk toppling, and had to grab his shoulders to keep from falling- though she nearly did in shock anyway. Looking up into obsidian orbs that glittered like polished stones, the Gryffindor's breath halted and her heart slammed against her ribs, threatening to break through. "The lessons aren't over yet, witch," her former professor growled, driving her against the marble-topped students' desk. Eyes wide as saucers, she let him scoot her up along on the surface with her legs around his waist, the trill of fear unexpectedly adding to her excitement.

Keeping contact the entire time, he deftly removed her damp knickers and tossed them aside before slowly vanishing his pants with 'Divesto'. The sight of his wholly erect body rendered her speechless. He was much bigger than she'd expected. And so very… male. Silently daring her to look away yet demanding she not, Severus snatched a fistful of her short plaid skirt in his hand and crumpled it to the floor as well. She stopped breathing entirely when she realized she was completely revealed to him in the candlelight. Before she could even murmur so much as a prayer, his fingers threaded their way through the small patch shielding her most private parts. And then he was touching her in the most intimate fashion, setting off a most delectable aching sensation. She twisted against him, seeking something more, something she couldn't describe. Severus seized her thighs and thrust deep, mindless of the potion splashing behind them. Her head flew back as she screamed with joy, and she heard him gasp and bite off a curse, both shuddering at the feel of his cock inside her. To Hermione, it was like exploding from the inside and being splintered into a million vibrating, white-hot pieces. He stretched and filled her and the sensation was unlike any she'd ever felt, even when he lay still. To him it was like falling through a void only to be engulfed by an inferno, getting lost in the tight wet heat convulsing around him. Her reaction delighted him and stirred him in a way no drug could match.

She lost what was left of her mind when he started moving- a pulsing massage deep inside her, reaching places once cold and empty. Torturously slow, he stoked the flame higher and higher with his rhythm of three short, one long… always staring deep into her eyes with that maddening half-smile. Panting, she lifted up, trying to lay claim to that ephemeral release maybe, but was denied- to her displeasure. So pressing forward, Hermione freed herself just enough to give the cauldron another shove and lean over the spotted desk in sultry invitation. The Potions Master accepted with a hoarse shout, the new angle allowing him to propel even further and tear an echo of it from her own throat. She was all to aware of his rigid length probing the damp, throbbing entrance of her body and the bright, shivery thrills tripping through her. Her vision danced with stars before going completely white as he picked up speed, and she clutched the hand he had on one breast urgently, thrusting back. "Minx," he rasped as she clenched her inner muscles, hands sliding over her slick, satiny skin to caress her round hips and taut stomach. "Devil," she replied in kind, gyrating her hips to feel him more fully inside her and shivering.

She sensed that he was at the limits of his usually exquisite control and was ecstatic in the knowledge that she'd been the one to push him to that dangerous edge. Though, she realized in hindsight, she often had over the years tested his great patience. What was one more degree? Tugging her long mane to bring her head around and backwards, he took her lips ruthlessly, rocketing against her and moving ever faster, deeper. His muscles were tense, steely bands alongside her hand where she'd reached back to feel him pounding inside her. The sweet pressure built to breaking at her core and she clenched down, shifting. Breaths coming in tiny gasps, she was in the grips of a force she did not fully comprehend before her release crashed upon her like a storm. Eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted in wonder before quickly biting down to swallow the choked cry of astonished pleasure as she was blown apart in sparkling waves. Then his mouth opened on a heavy groan, eyes narrowing into intense slits as he spasmed too, spilling into her in short bursts. Breathing heavy, he partially relaxed across her back before easing to the side and leaning into the desk as she was, oblivious to the fact it was now coated with a thick viscous fluid. On her back with his arms curled around her, she stared at the flickering ceiling with dazed, uncomprehending eyes as the pieces of herself came back together.

Even as she tried to ride out the slow, hot burn she held her position, though the feel of him- strong, deadly, uncompromisingly masculine- against the keenly sensitive surface of her skin still made her want to shudder in ecstasy. Severus Snape, a creature so lethal part of her feared him even now, brushed the golden autumn colored locks from her forehead with fingers that could bring excruciating pleasure. Or pain. Onyx eyes in a face that turned mean into mice, that sweep of night-dark hair framing a visage of perfect grace and not a little cruelty , the dark passion there… Uncertainly was a wall of white noise in her ear, mind cascading with a waterfall of images on the heels of the past hour. She sucked in a gulp of air as she felt the temptation of his scent wrap around her in a glide of fur and sex and wanton indulgence. 'So who won the game in the end?' Hermione puzzled lackadaisically, just laying there, too tired to really tally it all up. He was oddly beautiful like this, though she knew well that he possessed a vein of callousness sewn into the fabric of his being. That callousness translated into a furious kind of control in bed that made a woman scream, her skin too tight across a body that knew only hunger. "This doesn't mean I like you, you know." Even as she spoke, she was vividly conscious that she'd have to use every once of her will to maintain her personality around the incredible strength of his.

"Does it matter? You are mine." His expression was unchanged, but she knew he was laughing at her. A hint of midnight whispered through his tone; shadows so thick they were almost corporeal. Rich. Exotic. Earthy in a way she'd never have believed him to be. Was it wrong that sparks yet sizzled along her spine at hearing the utter possession in his voice? Probably. But she didn't care. The only thing she cares about was the fact that she was here. With him. The warmth in her stomach uncoiled with lazy grace through her body, demand in every slow pulse. But despite it she sat up, still keeping an eye on him with her peripheral vision. Not that she'd survive him if he came after her in truth, but that was no reason to make herself an easy target. "So arrogant." His smile was pure wicked intent and confidence, the kind that could [and did?] tempt an innocent to sin, and a sinner straight to hell. "You forget, I've been inside your head." His gaze was smug, that of a predator sizing up his prey, his voice swirling around her like a thousand silken cords feeding a fever she could hardly contain. Her brain blanked for several seconds as he pressed nearer, the heat of him a living brand arrowing straight to the liquid center of her.

When she could speak again it came out breathy. "Then you should know better." She stilled and felt everything- the fire and earth, spring windstorms cut by a hint of steel blazing a wild path through her head. "My body perhaps, but my and my soul are my own. Accept that." "Or?" The cool question of one used to getting exactly what he wanted. "I guess you'll have to wait and see." Leaning back on her arms, her body aching and unfulfilled, she simply looked at him, the exquisite balance of nobility and cruelty, beauty and darkness. His own hunger had turned his face acetic, that flawless bone structure dramatic against his skin. But he made no move to try it again. She still wasn't prepared for the savage depths of his hunger, but he could give her the façade she sought. But as their bodies met, she felt the slow burn of his power grow until it pulsed against every inch of her flesh. It was a reminder that no matter how strong she had become, he was still the Master. His energy surrounded her, soaked into her very pores, his mouth taking hers with a terrible, beautiful cruelty.

"You can't scare me," she murmured, breaking away. "You lie, witch. I can feel your heart stuttering like a trapped rabbit's." The fire in his eyes was hypnotizing. "I'd be stupid not to be a little afraid. But I'm not going to back down just because you're being snarky and impossible." The white-hot burn of his power faded, replaced by the erotic touch of his skin. "Only you'd dare say that." Her grin was unrepentant, and his held a challenge. But a crash broke the battle of wills and his narrowed gaze darted towards the sound before identifying the cause. Her neglected cauldron. Only then did he examine the area around them, cursing. They were both long covered with the draught of Fervia Volupta, a rather strong lust potion. "We're going to be in for a very long night," she heard as his lips closed in on hers fiercely. "Bring it on," she answered internally. Then all thought was eradicated and she knew only his touch and taste. She'd always been more of a masochist than sadist anyway. That was his element.

-The End-

A/N: There it is folks, the last piece of the puzzle, so to speak, lol. It was seeming like I'd been working on it forever. Not if I can only get some fresh inspiration for my [longer] HG/SS creature fic that I started… But anyways, hope you liked it, don't forget to review! And if you like that, check out my fluffy Draco/Harry [mostly just implied] fic, After the War