Chapter Four
Hermione had closed her eyes as well, and upon opening them once the twisting, squeezing sensation had stopped, saw that they had reappeared in the middle of her bed. She was thankful now that she had chosen a room with a double bed in, and not one of the small box rooms. The quilt was a hideous old chintzy thing, and just as shabby as the rest of the furnishings in the house, but at least they could both fit on without worrying about rolling off onto the floor every time they moved.
She beamed broadly at Snape, who was still holding her firmly in his grasp. "Thanks, that wasn't too bad!" He released his grip on her, and she let herself fall to one side and off his chest. They lay there for a second, before the professor wrapped an arm around her once more, and pulled her closer to him, rolling on his side to face her on the bed. Mere inches from him, she could feel the warmth of his breath. He smelled faintly of spearmint, she noticed. Turning her attention back to his buttons again, she started where she had left off - working her way down from his neck to his chest. Finally reaching the last one at his waist, she pushed apart the open fabric and ran her fingers over his shirt below, her hands exploring his chest and back. Snape slipped a long leg through hers, intertwining them; pressing his thigh gently between her knees to part them, as he brought his hand to her face and held her chin ever so gently between finger and thumb, not taking his eyes off her for a moment.
"Exquisite." One of her hands roamed a little further down his back and she gave his arse a light squeeze, earning her a cocked eyebrow in faux-indignation. "Miss Granger, you are incorrigible! I fear it may be my virtue that is at risk from your desires, rather than the other way around...(!)" He nibbled lightly at her earlobe, sending a shiver of pleasure through her, and kissed her neck which made her squirm under his touch. She was breathing heavily in his ear, the sound of her arousal encouraging him even more.
Placing her hands around the back of his head, fingers running through his long, silky hair, Hermione pulled his face up to hers and engaged him in a long, passionate kiss. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Snape started to tug at the bottom of her sweater, lifting it up and over her head. Flinging it over his shoulder and onto the floor, Hermione's lips crashed against his again as her hands worked on his shirt buttons. Frustrated, she got a grip on both sides of the material and tugged it apart. A handful of small, mother-of-pearl discs pinged off in various unseen directions, and he growled into her mouth. "That shirt was expensive..." She stuck her tongue into his mouth in reply, carried away in the heat of the moment.
"I know a good sewing spell... I'll fix it for you later..." Feeling her warm hands tracing circles over his bare chest, Severus offered no further complaint. Underneath her pullover she had on a thin t-shirt. He slipped his large hands underneath the fabric, running them up and down her skin. Feeling a tug at his waist, he looked down momentarily to see her undoing his belt. This ignited his passion for her even more and he plunged a hand down the band of her jeans, only very fleetingly surprised to feel racy lace underwear beneath his fingers, as he returned her earlier tease and grabbed a handful of her bum. She moaned into his open mouth in ecstasy, and worked faster on his belt, giving it a good yank once unfastened, and whipping it free.
"We can keep that for later...!" She chuckled saucily at him, panting hard. Snape realised he was rather breathless already too. It was a young man's game really, just a shame he hadn't had such opportunities in his youth. No time like the present though, he supposed - he'd just have to make up for lost time.
Hermione's fingers were now working their way down the buttons on his fly. If ever they were going to turn back, now would be it. He hoped she wouldn't, but couldn't blame her if she bottled it. Stepping out in public with her professor was already a big enough step for her when their relationship was one of mutual friendship and shared interests. If and when people found out they were intimately involved physically, she would be under much greater scrutiny. Also he thought regretfully, it might serve to make her a target for the Death Eaters, should his own true loyalties be discovered. They would be most eager to use her as a bargaining chip without hesitation. But then she was already a target, merely through her friendship with Potter.
Pushing unpleasant thoughts of his distasteful-but-necessary associates out of his mind, he gasped as Hermione's hand pushed beneath the fabric of his trousers and cupped him firmly through his underwear. No - definitely no going back now! Grabbing hold of her wrist gently but securely, he smiled knowingly at her, removing her arm away from his body. She looked momentarily disappointed as he sat up, but as he reached for her shirt - pulling it up and over her arms and discarding it on the floor with her other clothing - her smile returned. Her own vestments were much easier than his - all he had to contend with was a large metal button and a zip. He had to admit, Muggle clothes were sometimes a lot more practical than wizarding ones. Pulling her jeans down her legs and revealing that, yes, she was indeed wearing a barely-there pair of lace panties, he kicked the trousers off the end of the bed and ran his hands all the way back up her body as he made his way up the bed, taking in every gorgeous inch of her with his unblinking black gaze.
Lying back down alongside her, he fumbled with his own trousers, pulling and pushing them down his legs. He had forgotten however, that he hadn't removed his boots since arriving at the house, and frowned as the material bunched above his ankles. Hermione was quick to leap to his aid, shimmying down the bed to assess the situation. His trouser cuffs were also fastened up the sides with a neat row of small, black buttons. He thought he heard her sigh.
"I swear Severus, we have got to get you a more practical wardrobe..." Grateful that she didn't decide to destroy them as well, he watched frozen in anticipation as she swiftly undid the half dozen offending closures, and slipped his trousers down and over his feet. "Shall we keep your boots on? There's something rather sexy about black leather I think?!" She was sniggering at him, pointedly flinging his clothing onto the messy pile with the rest of hers. His eyes were firmly fixed on her chest though. Her bra matched her pants - a skimpy lace number he noticed, in a rather unusual shade of dark green. She really didn't need to go to the trouble of appealing to him, he thought - it'd all soon be forgotten on the floor anyway(!) Kicking irritatedly at his footwear, he dislodged one boot which thumped to the floor off the end of the bed. Seeing him struggle, Hermione placed her warm hands on his scrawny calf and helped him remove the other. Wishing he'd thought to put on a pair of socks that morning that didn't have several obvious holes in, he shuffled his feet self-consciously to try and hide them. Hermione was having none of it, and ran her hands up and down either side of his legs rhythmically, making her way back to his feet, whereupon she gave him the warmest smile he'd ever seen on a person and pulled the socks off with a flourish - somehow managing to make their mundane removal rather seductive.
Shucking off his loose shirt and tunic, they were now both sat there together in their underwear. Luckily his underpants were in slightly better condition than his footwear, he was glad to note. While he wasn't particularly into dressing 'well' - preferring utility over style - he was a proud man, and liked to think he projected a smart image at all times; the shabby, mismatched outfits of his childhood a distant memory. Reclining back once more, he placed a guiding hand on Hermione's upper arm and she lay down alongside him, he could feel the heat of her body radiating towards him. Snape kissed her on the forehead, his large hooked nose touching her hair.
Glancing around for his wand, he spotted it had rolled in between the pillows, and digging it out, gave it a sharp flick. The bedspread whipped itself out from under them both, like a magician pulling a tablecloth out from beneath a dinner set, and floated lightly back down to cover them. Holding the ebony instrument in between his teeth for a second, he slithered out of his underpants. Hermione reached over and took the wand from his mouth, exerting firm but gentle pressure until he released his grip on it, somewhat reluctantly. He felt suddenly vulnerable. His state of undress probably contributed a little, but mostly it was the sensation of relinquishing his means of control to somebody other than himself - a foreign feeling. Since childhood, he had always striven to keep everything internal, showing no outer signs of turmoil, no matter what raged within. Watching her intently, Snape saw her run her fingers along the length of the wand, taking in all the fine detail on the handle. Apparently finding it to her liking, she placed it respectfully onto the bedside table behind her and shuffled closer to him, pressing her body up against his. He placed his hands on her waist, stroking his thumbs over the smooth skin above her hips, holding her to him, although she seemed not to want to be departing from there any time soon. Trailing his hands up her body and over her ribs, he reached around to her back, and she could feel him working at the clasp on her bra. Although she'd often admired his slender, long fingers, apparently they weren't as graceful and coordinated as they looked.
"I may require my wand back for this..." he murmured, with a mixed tone of frustration and wry amusement.
Hermione drew her hands away from his bare chest, where she'd been trailing her fingers across the pallid skin and through the sparse curls of black hair that peppered it. Twisting an arm under and round behind her, her chocolate-brown eyes adopted a momentary look of concentration, then he felt her relax against him and bring her arm back around. He reached up to slip the straps down her shoulders. She shifted her weight to free her bra, and giggled as he scrunched it into a ball and lobbed it over her head and over the side of the bed.
"Oi, you're not the only one with expensive clothes you know! I took ages choosing which one to wear today, and you don't even give it a second glance!" Mock-outraged, she poked him in the chest with a delicate index finger, just above a pale nipple.
"Mmm. It's lovely, I'm sure. But I think I'd much rather admire what lies beneath." His head dipped forward as he planted a kiss on her lips, then her jaw, neck and collarbone, before ducking under the covers slightly and continuing his way down. Hermione threw her head back against the pillow as her skin tingled from his touch. He reached her navel and she thought she was about to go insane with the anticipation, when his head re-emerged from under the quilt and he kissed her lips again. She wrapped a leg over the top of his and passionately returned his embrace, tasting him on her tongue. He smelled like spices, and shoe leather, and new parchment; with a hint of something sharp - almost bitter, but not unpleasant.
Hermione could feel the effect she was having on him, and was a little bit smug that she of all people had managed to break through the Potions master's stony exterior to reveal a truly passionate man underneath. His passion was currently pressed up against her knickers, and he was now grinding against her, making it even more obvious. Feeling a tug on her underwear, she gasped as he drew his hand out from under the quilt, holding the remains of a scrap on green lace.
"Luckily, I believe you know a good sewing spell(!)" He drawled at her, feigning innocence. She laughed.
"Severus Snape, you're a bad man!"
"Guilty." He ground against her hips again. This time there was no material separating them, and she could feel the tip of his cock as it slipped back and forth against her, firing shivers of pleasure down her spine and sending the butterflies in her tummy into overdrive. "I rather think you like it though."
She didn't reply to his sneer, but instead snuck her hand down in-between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his dick, stroking slowly upwards from the base and swirling her fingers around the tip. He let out a grunt, and thrust towards her in an automatic reflex.
"Very bad!" She kissed him again and he bit at her bottom lip, his black eyes glittering with lust. Her hands continued their ministrations, and she felt his whole body tense up against her as he resisted succumbing to the sensations. "Let yourself go Severus. Please?"
"I... ah! I..." Instead of relaxing however, he pushed himself up on his elbow and leaned over her. "My turn."
His cock slipped out of her grasp and she was momentarily disappointed as he drew backwards away from her, but he threw the quilt up over his dark head and she felt his soft lips tracing their way back down her body again, his hair tickling her skin as he worked his way all the way down. Bracing himself with his wiry arms either side of her, pinning her to the bed; she was completely at his mercy, and she had never felt more alive.
"Sev- Severus..." She didn't think it was possible for things to get any better at that point, until he touched her with a surprisingly gentle finger, skimming it lightly over her pussy. It was her turn to thrust against his hand now. He chuckled deeply, muffled by the quilt, but audible nonetheless.
"Sev will do, if you like. In private of course. But I can hardly have you call me 'Professor' while I'm deflowering you, can I? Although..."
She craned her head up suddenly. "Sev, I-" She could see he looked up at her also; the lump in the bedspread rising as he reflexively glanced in her direction, although their view of each other was blocked by the quilt.
"An arbitrary choice of words, my dear. I no more expect this to be your first time than I would place ten Galleons on the Chudley Cannons winning the World Cup. You'll have to forgive an old man his failings though, Hermione - I'm afraid I am rather out of practice myself. So far as I was ever in practice, that is."
Flinging the quilt up and off his head, Hermione looked into the fathomless black eyes that were staring back at her. "Out of practice? Well you don't feel that out of practice to me! Merlin's beard! Whatever you were doing just then with your nose, please feel free to repeat that!"
The corners of his mouth twitched in a satisfied smirk. "Certainly." He placed his entire hand between her legs, stroking her clit with his thumb while slipping a finger inside of her rhythmically. "All in good time, I intend on making the most of this."
Dipping his head to her torso, he inhaled deeply as he trailed his nose down her perfect skin, until he reached his own hand. Removing his fingers, his cock twitched as she moaned softly at the deprivation. She wasn't disappointed for long though, as his tongue replaced the digit, and she cried out as he flicked it in and out against her wet core. Just as she thought she couldn't take any more, her hips bucking involuntarily to meet him, his tongue withdrew as well, and he dragged himself back up the bed over her until they were face to face. His long black hair fell over her cheeks, and she thought she'd never seen a man quite so mesmerising as him. He cocked his head to one side, his shaggy dark mane tickling her face. She gave him a small nod, knowing what he was asking. You didn't need to be a Legilimens to work that one out, she thought to herself.
She felt him place his hard cock against her, and with great care and deliberation he pushed inside, letting out a low moan of his own as she could feel him filling every inch of her. She hoped it felt just as good to him as it did her, although she didn't see how it was possible. "Merlin, Severus! Oh God..." He stayed perfectly still for a moment, whether for his benefit or hers, she couldn't say, a look of intense concentration on his features.
"Are you...? Shall I...?" It seemed funny to have him suddenly so uncertain. Uncharacteristically wrong-footed in a situation that was probably equally unexpected for the both of them.
"Yes." She said. "Severus, please."
As he began to move, they both closed their eyes as the sensation overwhelmed them. Slowly at first, Snape started to thrust in and out, leaning down to kiss her deeply and groaning into her mouth with every movement. Hermione was gripping the sheets hard and brought her legs up to wrap them around his hips, increasing the friction, and the wizard's efforts became almost frantic as he listened to the noises she was making, feeling his own release building; she was so unbelievably tight around him. He hoped he wouldn't embarrass himself.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Hermione? Are you in there?"
"Shit, it's Sirius!" Hermione hissed. She froze instantly. Snape reached out quick as a flash and seized up his wand from where Hermione had placed it on the table next to the bed. She had a brief sensation of something like a cold raw egg running down her head and over her body, before the door opened a crack with a soft creak. The wizard laying on top of her placed his hand over her mouth firmly, letting himself drop to lie flush against her, his head tucked over her shoulder to rest face down into the pillow, creating the smallest profile they could.