Hermione stood up. Slowly. Her gaze never strayed from Severus's lap, where he was frantically wishing his robes did more to hide the state of his growing erection. She didn't look repulsed by his sarcastic suggestion - far from it, in fact. She looked like she wanted to take him up on it.
How the hell did that happen? He hadn't wanted her to assume he was serious! . . . Except for the part of you that did, a voice inside him whispered. Severus desperately tried to think of something else to say, some way of cutting her back to size and embarrassing her for thinking he ever actually meant any of it, but he kept drawing a blank.
And then Hermione was looming over him as he sat there on the edge of the bed, her wand in her hand. Severus forced himself to keep his eyes steadily on hers. Which meant that when she sank down slowly onto his lap, knees on either side of his hips, he could see every nuance of expression crossing her face. And when she ground her pelvis down on his and his composure finally broke and he took in a fractured breath, she could see every nuance of expression on his own.
He fought to keep his voice from cracking, a cruel flashback to his teenage years. "Miss Granger -"
"I thought we decided on Mistress," she interrupted. She touched the tip of her wand to the back of the collar and Severus felt the magical chain connecting him to the bed disappear, replaced by a much shorter one connecting him to the wand. And even though she held her wand lightly, its position was absolute - there was no give at all. He could pull as hard as he wanted, but the chain drained all the movement out before it could make her hand so much as quiver. It was, to put it bluntly, a fucking phenomenal sensation. Add that to the list of things I don't want to think too closely about.
"Say 'Yes, Mistress.'" One corner of her mouth twisted into a sardonic smile Severus recognized as an eerie copy of his own signature smirk. But he couldn't - couldn't acknowledge it, not quite yet. Couldn't speak at all as he processed the amazing feeling of Miss Hermione Granger pinning his legs down and riding his lap. He started to shift, raised one knee up and out from under her -
"None of that!" Hermione twisted her wand away from his collar and pointed at his feet. "Serodus pediodam!" She bounced her weight backward a fraction, knocking his feet back to the floor, where they stuck fast. It wasn't a spell he had ever heard before, and Severus had a passing urge to find out whether she had found it in a book or just invented it herself - but then the thought was knocked clean from his head when she settled herself back onto his hips and rocked herself forward into him. He let out a groan.
"Reluctant to say it?" She leaned in close, nearly touching her nose to his. She smelled like jasmine and lilac. "You were so keen to shock me a minute ago . . . do you want me to stop?"
Severus met her eyes, saw the sincerity and the hunger there. She truly wanted this from him, wanted him to call her his mistress, wanted him to . . . submit? He licked his lips. "No - don't stop."
She rewarded him with another pelvic undulation which had him practically ready to spill right there, never mind his wank not twenty-four hours earlier. Severus reached for her, preparing to kiss her senseless and maybe regain a modicum of control -
"None of that either," she chided playfully. "In fact . . ." She touched the wand to his collar again, no chain in between this time, and slowly lowered her wand to the bed behind him. Severus had no choice but to follow, laying back on the lumpy mattress, now restrained only by the collar at his neck and the spell holding his feet to the floor. And Hermione sitting on his lap, occasionally grinding against him. He shifted his hips up experimentally and won a startled gasp from her lips.
She recovered quickly. Her eyes met his - and she very deliberately left the wand lying on the bed, mingled with his hair, point still touching his collar. Severus was pinned to it just as surely as if she had been holding it. It occurred to him that he could try to grab it, see whether this anchoring spell was her or just the wand, but there were other things he preferred to get his hands on.
Such as her waist as she moved against him. Severus let his fingers trail up from her knees to her thighs, then upward to settle around her hips as she gyrated. Her eyes never left his - and they were so full of fire . . . Hermione's hands fluttered up to her neckline, to the zipper at the front of her robes. She started to draw the zipper down, pull the fabric back -
"Yes, let me see . . ."
His words, perversely, made her stop. "No, I don't think so." She stopped after only a few inches, just a hint of tantalizing skin showing in the triangle she had bared. Although it might as well have been racy lingerie, given the effect it was having on Severus's heart rate.
"You're going to kill me," he choked out.
"Far from it," she replied with a smile. Her eyes raked down his body. "I'm going to go first. I think, as your Mistress, I should always get to go first, no? And after you've satisfied me, then perhaps I'll let you take your release too."
Severus had never thought of himself as a particularly perverted man. He never lusted after students, never watched men, never sought out the darker variety of erotic pleasures Knockturn Alley offered for discerning witches and wizards who knew what they wanted. But the thought of getting Hermione off over and over until she was thoroughly satisfied before she allowed him to reach his own climax, letting her take control of his orgasm in that way - it gave him a very literal shiver down his spine. Yes. That is what I want.
And yet he couldn't bring himself to say the word "mistress" aloud again.
So he tried his best to show her. She wanted to keep her robe on, so Severus skimmed his hands up her body - over her robe - and closed them over her breasts. The collar held him pinned flat to the mattress, so she had to learn forward a bit to let him reach. It felt like she was providing him with twin gifts, hidden behind the drape of her robes, but tantalizingly soft to the touch underneath the fabric. He played, gently at first, but then more confidently as she sighed and leaned into him further. He could feel a bra, of some sort, but it wasn't padded and it didn't obscure the softness of her skin . . .
"I'm taking your robe off now," she announced abruptly, and did so. She wasn't able to get it entirely off him, not while he was effectively chained to the bed and lying on it, but she unzipped the front and brushed the two halves to the sides, baring his chest and stomach to the cool air. Severus half expected her to recoil at the sight - he knew the scars on his torso were embarrassingly visible - but then she touched him with a gentle hand and he knew he was lost.
Her fingers swept up, all the way to the collar, and she traced one fingertip along the dark leather edge above his collarbone. And then those fingers traced downward, dragging across his nipple, crossing over the scars without pause, and flitted across the skin of his stomach. Severus sucked in his breath and tried to ignore the fluttering, needy sensation she generated.
"Mine. All this is mine." She looked back up, making sure he could see the possessiveness in her eyes. "I want to be able to touch you like this whenever I please. Say "Yes, Mistress, I'm yours.'"
Yes, Mistress. But he still couldn't say it.
She paused, waiting for his response. When it didn't come, her hands drifted downward, and in one smooth motion she lifted up onto her knees and pulled Severus's drawers down to hug his thighs. Severus gasped as his erection sprang sprang free. Hermione didn't immediately sit back down, though - she stayed kneeling over his thighs, devouring his body with her gaze. His erection twitched at the attention.
"You're going to say it before you come," she declared. And Severus didn't doubt it. Hermione claimed both his hands in hers, her palms warm against the backs of his fingers, and repositioned his hands so he had a palm on each of her thighs. Then she tugged her robe backwards, out from under his palms, and he was touching her bare skin underneath her robes.
Merlin alive, it was heaven. Hermione scooted forward to give him better access, which incidentally placed her core directly over his aching erection. Severus nudged upward, seeking relief, but hit the barrier of her undergarments.
"You haven't called me your Mistress yet," she said in a low voice. "Right now I want you to just use your hands."
So he did. And despite his relative lack of practical experience, Severus could tell he was using them well. He let his hands tell him about the body under her robe even though his eyes couldn't - the swell of her breasts, the feel of her ribcage, the shape of her derriere underneath her simple cotton underwear. She reacted beautifully to each touch, each caress - there was no subterfuge on her face when she quivered under his ministrations. And finally, when he ran one long finger around to the front of her panties and dipped it inside to tease her soft core, she keened and came apart in his arms.
He was so hard he could barely stand it - and yet the feel of Hermione quivering and then collapsing bonelessly on top of him was welcome in some other way, some not-related-to-his-cock feeling of satisfaction. Severus brought his arms around her and stroked her back while her breathing returned to normal.
"God, it's been too long," she groaned, her voice coming from somewhere in the vicinity of his left ear. And then her lips closed over his earlobe, and Severus nearly expired on the spot. He vaguely recognized the strangled noise he was making as something of a plea.
"Say it - ask me to let you come," Hermione whispered into his ear. And her tongue and lips touched the shell of his ear in a way that had him harder than he'd ever been in his life. He drove his hips upward into hers, seeking her heat, but she bucked away with a laugh. "No, not until you say it. In fact - hmmm." She sat up and eased off to sit beside him. "I think you're going to help me make you come. After you admit this is what you want."
Severus opened his eyes and locked his gaze on her face - but she was looking down lower, at where his cock was feeling more sensitive than it had ever been. Her hand ghosted over him, not actually touching his skin, but his skin tingled as if she had.
"Tell me you want to come."
"I want to come," he moaned.
She speared a sharp look at his face. "I want to come, Mistress."
Severus opened his mouth to argue - he was so desperate -
Hermione grabbed his hand and placed it on his cock, then enveloped his hand with her own. "Show me what you like."
And Merlin help him, he tried. She kept her hand over his as he palmed himself and started working up and down. It didn't take long - he was so damn on edge -
"Say it." Her hand tightened over his, preventing him from those last few strokes he needed so badly -
"I want to come, Mistress!" he pleaded.
And the smile that broke over her face was a joy to behold. She released his hand and slid her own down beside it, molding over him with just the right amount of pressure, her fingers dainty against his sensitive skin. One stroke, two, and then he came so hard he saw stars. She kept her hand on him the whole time, gently milking every last sensation out of him, before she stood and zipped her robe up the rest of the way.
Severus couldn't speak, could barely think. All he could do was to lie there on the bed and marvel at her. She hiked up her robes and crawled onto the mattress next to him, brushing his hair out of the way. She reached down and retrieved her wand, breaking the anchoring spell with a quick twist and a muttered spell before waving a second spell in the direction of his feet. He felt no inclination to move yet, though, even if he now could.
"Scourgio." Severus felt a tingle spread across his stomach as the mess of ejaculate disappeared. Hermione trailed feminine fingertips over his chest once more, then tugged gently at the gaping edges of his robe. "Sit up and get dressed. We have potions to make."