As a part of this particular day - 2 May - I will remain quite happily in denial about a certain Potions Master by adding to this fic ;-)
Severus took her hand and led her from the bathroom, her skin warm and tingling from the very thorough drying to which he had subjected her.
She didn't doubt her cheeks were bright pink. She'd just fellat… She'd just sucked…
Hermione bit her lip. Some witch of the world she was turning out to be, when she couldn't even form the words in her mind. But then, that was what this time was about, wasn't it? To provide the experience to turn her into the mature, cultured witch who would slip through wizarding society with the stream-lined ferocity of a great white shark…
She wanted that power for herself. She did. But —her gaze slid over the gilded, and very naked, beauty of the wizard before her— that cultured witch would never have this again.
This blissful little bubble of time with this wizard.
She shoved down the hollow ache, one that seemed to grow everyday now with knowledge that this was all…finite. She hadn't lied to herself. It was hardening into a solid fact. There would be no one after him.
"Hermione?"
Severus' voice was a velvet rumble in the shadowy room and she pulled her thoughts back. Her lips twitched into a smile. "You will have to teach me that vibrating spell, you know."
"Perhaps."
A finger drew a slow line under her bottom lip and she eased in a breath, parting her lips at the rush of heat the simple touch chased through her flesh.
"As a…reward." His black eyes gleamed and Hermione couldn't help but take a step closer to him, the warmth of his body flowing over her own. Her belly tightened. Merlin, she wanted him. In every way.
His mouth dipped to hers, his breath teasing her lips. "Oh and I will make you work for it, Miss Granger."
Gods… "Yes, yes please."
His eyes glittered. "Such an eager little witch."
Severus Snape was a wicked man. He truly was.
"Now…"
He drew his fingers down her arm, his touch…magical, and took her other hand. As he pulled her back to the dark mass of the bed, her heart was in her throat. He had more plans for her. Giving her the chance to lose herself in the bliss of his touch, his mouth, his fingers, the slide of all that hot, bare skin against her own… And that thought almost dizzied her.
"You've tasted me." His sly, black gaze slid down her bare body and it was suddenly so very hard to breathe. He wet his lips —a deliberate lick— and a hard throb of desire rocked her. "I do believe the…favour should be returned."
Hermione blinked. The hurried whispers through the dormitories had always hinted at this…and how few girls could ever get their boyfriends to agree. Her belly twisted. Was it just a favour? Something he wanted to get out of the way as a part of her introduction as a ribboned-witch.
Severus stilled. "This bothers you?"
"You…you don't have to do it, Severus. I know that…" Hermione shrugged and hated that she was still so gauche. She gritted her teeth. "Cunnilingus." She snapped out the word. "You aren't obligated—"
"Obligated?" He shook his head, his long, black hair flicking against his shoulders. "Pleasure is shared, little witch."
The endearment caught her breath.
He pulled her too him, the warm, naked stretch of his skin covering hers from thigh to breast. His mouth ghosted over her ear and she shivered against him.
"I want my mouth on your sweet cunt. To lick, to nibble, to revel in your wanton desire. To taste how wet I can make you. To tease your little clit until you beg me to let you come. And you will come, sweet girl." His nose caressed the heated shell of her ear and there was a sharp grin to his next words. "This nose does have its uses, after all."
His voice was low and deliciously wicked, a fire through her flesh, till she could hardly string a thought together. "Yes, Severus. I never thought…"
"I am here to fulfil all of your darkest desires."
She clutched at him then, not able to stop the wanton little moan that broke from her. And his cock was a steel length against her belly. He did, he wanted this with her.
Hermione swallowed, her head pressed to the sharpness of his collarbone. She would have everything she could from him until her ribbon fell away. Everything. "Then who am I to stop you?"
His laughter huffed against her hair. "On to the bed with you, cheeky girl."
Hermione pulled herself away from him, missing the joy of his skin, even if she would have him again in moments. His eyes gleamed as he watched her and it really was…addictive being at the centre of his dark focus.
"When can I have you, Severus?"
The question broke from her and mortification burned in her face.
He cupped her cheek in his large hand, the warmth of his ring a delicious tingle against her skin. She pressed into her touch, eager for more of it. Eager and easy, that's exactly what she was.
"New Year's Eve," he murmured.
"That's almost a fortnight away—"
"Is it?" He urged her onto soft sheets, following her down, the caress of his body over hers scattering her protest. "Then we must find something with which to pass the time, mustn't we?"
"I…" Damp hair brushed under her jaw, his sure lips already teasing a line over her collarbone. She turned into his touch, caught in bliss as his hot and so very talented mouth chased kisses over the swell of her breasts. Her ache for him deepened.
How was she going to last the night, never mind twelve whole days?
A gasp broke from her as his teeth grazed her nipple.
"So sweet," he murmured.
Dark eyes fixed on her, the edge of light caught there, gleaming, beautiful. His hand caressed the shape of her, over her ribs, her waist, her hips and the warmth of his Ring swept a hot line of wild joy through her already straining flesh.
She mewled. "Gods, Severus, please…" She bit her lip, her face hot and her need flaring. He said she'd beg. But in that moment, she didn't care. The simplest of his touches was…overwhelming.
He smirked against the underside of her breast. And it was a smirk. Bastard. "Such a naughty girl." The wet, silken strands of his hair flowed across her stomach as he inched lower…lower… "Begging a dark wizard to taste you." His tongue teased across her navel and she jerked, her fingers fisting the sheets at the sudden shock of pleasure. "To eat you."
Severus mouth pressed insanely light kisses to her mons, his large hands a torment to her thighs. His thumbs teased over the crease, easing her legs apart, even as she twitched and rolled her hips, wanting more. Wanting the full hard pressure of his mouth. Of that fucking glorious nose—
His laughter caught her breath and she bit hard at her lip. "Please, Severus. Do…something."
There had been dry tomes and lurid Witch Weekly articles for research, but in this moment, with the wizard she ached for between her thighs, his hot breath a torment, what could she ask for?
"Make me never forget you."
The words broke from her. Desperate. Pleading. And she couldn't care what he would take from them. Not with his tongue quick and hot, slicking through her, finding, finding—
Hard hands pinned her, denying her the twist into and away from his feasting mouth. And that nose. Just…right. Driving a white hot-fire through her veins.
How did anyone do this…after? After the ribbon. How could they? The joy and heat and raw, sweet pleasure that built with every flick, and kiss and rub. Of lips, and tongue, and teeth and—
Her spine was a bow. Taut. Holding here there, teetering, on the wild edge of her release.
Then he—
Hermione screamed. Joy smashed through her in a golden riot, her body shaking, hands tearing at the sheets. "I love your nose. Love it."
She found herself wrapped in his arms, his still-hungry month taking hers. He tasted of her, a sweet muskiness that caught the fading echoes of her release. She arched under him, the hard length of him—there, gods, there—against her hip…
If he would only… Just a turn. A slip. Mere inches from where she ached to have him…
"Wicked girl." It was a growl against her lips and Severus eased one of her hands free, guiding it down his hot skin, between them…to the deliciously hot steel of his cock. "Lenis motus."
The spell hummed through her fingers and Severus sucked in a sharp breath. Endless eyes held hers. Need and desire burned there. His voice was a silken rumble as he murmured, "I am once again at your…mercy."
Hermione drew in a breath, her mouth parched. She licked her dried lips and his hot gaze darted there. Her heart drummed…and she drew her thumb over the sensitive head, stilling as he did. "Should I show you none?"
Why had he said a fortnight? Why?
Because he was a fucking idiotic masochist.
But…he wanted to draw out her anticipation. Make her ache. Make her look back on her time with him and find it…unparalleled.
Make me never forget you.
That. Just…that. And some part of him—some long-denied secret part of him—wanted her first time to be…special. Not the reaction to Lucius fucking Malfoy and his attempt to claim his witch.
Severus' lips brushed hers and his fingers teased a line down the inner plane of her arm. Her fingers tightened around his cock and he hissed in a breath. Fucking spell would have him coming like an untried boy…but shit, it made him want to roll his eyes into the back of his head.
Her slender fingers wrapped around a cock so hard it was a wonder there was any blood left in any other part of his body. The brush of her trembling skin against his, the taste of her there still rich on his tongue… It was a tormenting bliss. "Fuck, Hermione… Make me not forget you, either."
It was an insane admission, but he didn't care.
Not when her mouth took his, hot and eager and the quick strokes of her thrumming hand surged through his body. Even after the best blowjob he could remember, he was close, so close...
"Come for me, Severus Snape."
And he did. A white hot shock of joy, as if her siren-voice had been training him for years.
He huffed a laugh against her mouth and murmured a cleaning spell. "It's too late for another shower."
"Tomorrow is Sunday… Well, today, now."
Severus brushed back the sweaty curls from her face. She was pink-cheeked. More than her cheeks. Her deep, orgasmic flush chased all the way down to her breast bone. He smirked at her. "So, it is."
She pressed her lips together, and the little swot expression grew. Hermione Granger was so very…readable. And there was a niggle of regret that her openness would fade, would wither as she became more…worldly.
He lifted an eyebrow.
"Can I sleep with you? Here? Every night?"
The question came out in a hot rush and she dipped her face to his chest.
Severus wrapped himself around her, a pale dragon around his horded gold. It would be a mistake. A monumental mistake. He couldn't have her in his bed. The temptation of skin, of pleasure, of making her arch against him and gasp her release…
And the other side. The even more dangerous familiarity. Of the inconsequential chatter as the lights went out. The nights she was lost to some dry tome before he threw it to the floor—inciting her outraged gasp—and ordering her to sleep. Of curling around her just like he was now in a tangle of sated limbs and bare skin and easing into dreams unbearably sweetened by her presence…
No, this witch in his bed would only make everything so much more…difficult when the ribbon fell free.
And the proof would be there—glaring at his battered heart—that her attraction was all down to the magic of the Ribbon and the Ring.
Severus pressed a kiss to the tangle of her hair. The sweet scent of her, the lingering hints of vanilla, of sweat and the heady mix of their bodies was almost dizzying—
"Yes. Every night."
Severus closed his eyes. Fuck.
Let me know what you think! :)