Chapter 50
He twisted round just as he approached the sofa and sat down in the corner of it with a whump; Hermione sitting sideways across his lap with her legs down the length of the squashy cushions. His arm was around her back where he had been carrying her, and he slid the long limb up until it was around her shoulders, pulling her towards him so he could passionately kiss her again. It had been entirely too long since he'd had his tongue in her mouth, at least ten minutes and a marriage proposal ago, by his reckoning.
He swirled his tongue around her mouth, enjoying the feel of her little bottom wriggling in his lap. His other arm was stretched to its fullest extent down her body, and he began running his hand leisurely up her smooth leg from ankle to thigh, dipping under her dress and waiting teasingly just at the top of her leg, his fingertip tracing tiny circles on her heated skin.
"What did I do to deserve you, little witch?" he wondered aloud, his eyes heavy-lidded with lust, his mouth wet and slack from her kisses.
She smiled, and pressed her lips to his cheek, kissing down to his damaged neck and beginning to lick and nip with the lightest touch, feeling his cock twitch beneath her as she did so.
"Fuck, Hermione, you know how to touch me. I burn for you; and you alone."
At his words she intensified her efforts; flickering her tongue over the surface of his scar and enjoying the sound of his blissful moaning. His hand was no longer content to rest upon her leg and he delved between her thighs, pushing them apart to seek his prize within.
He spread her open with his long fingers, using his thumb to begin stroking her clitoris, the nub already swelling with her arousal.
"Severus ..." she hissed, pushing her hips upwards to press against his seeking hand.
"I want to hear my name from your lips forever. I want to devote my life to your pleasure."
"Believe me," she whispered, breaking her lips away from their ministrations to his neck and laying back in his supporting arm to fully enjoy the pleasure he was giving her, "I will allow it."
He bent forwards and placed a heavy kiss to her wet mouth.
"I am most pleased to hear that. Now spread your legs for me, so that I can feel your pleasure drip upon my hand as I rub you."
What was it about his mere words that had her turning as boneless as a flobberworm, nothing but a soft instrument for his capable hands to play?
"I do not know, but I am glad they do."
She opened her eyes and looked at his smirking face, gazing intently down at her mound as his wicked hand pleasured her.
"Loud thoughts again," he confirmed, "Do not trouble yourself. Close your eyes again."
She allowed her eyelids to droop and concentrated on the bloody amazing sensations he was creating between her legs. On a purely sexual level, all good sense and emotion left out of it, he truly was a wonderfully satisfying and creative lover – dominant yet gentle, instructive yet receptive, and wholly more fun than she could ever have imagined Professor Snape to be.
She allowed a moan of pleasure to escape her lips as he sank two long fingers into her, continuing his relentless thumbing of her clit, winding her tighter and tighter.
"Yes, my little wife-to-be, moan for me; let me hear you. You like this, don't you? You like me touching you in all your most secret places?"
"Only you," she murmured back, squirming with arousal, "Only ever you."
Her words and actions sent another pulse of pleasure directly to his cock, and he pushed his hips up involuntarily to rub the hardening shaft against her. Only him. The very notion of having this beautiful, intelligent girl all to himself was astonishing. He had no doubt he would be the most possessive fiancé the wizarding world had ever seen.
He ceased his deep fingering to take a hold of her clit, now as hard as a small pebble, and twist it back and forth, as if he was delicately unscrewing a bottle cap, and causing the most wonderfully irritating friction; her abdomen jumped with the sensation.
"Come, my Hermione. Come into my hand. Let me feel you ..."
His voice was as hypnotic and commanding as his fingers, now twiddling her clit with such pace and speed that she had no choice but to explode her orgasm from deep inside her, rocking and jolting her hips with a force that meant he struggled to hold on – but of course he did. Severus was far too skilled to allow that.
At length, she came down, and sank into his lap as he littered kisses along her sweaty forehead.
"Good girl," he soothed, "My wonderful girl."
"Can you make love to me again?" her voice sounded small and pleading, even to her own ears, and it made her laugh. "Not that I want to beg," she smiled.
"You will never have to beg me to undertake such a pleasurable job. However, this is the first time we will have made love since you agreed to accept my bond, and therefore I am not convinced that the sofa is the best place."
Before she could answer, she found herself stood in the small space at the end of her bed, the only bit of floor in the room that was otherwise just wall-to-wall bed. Severus was holding her, his strong arms and chest a steadying force as she adjusted to going from lying down to standing up in the split-second of his surprise apparition.
She stepped away and turned to face him, flicking her wand at the bed to make it (oops, a job she should've done that morning) before placing it trustingly on the shelf. She unclasped the black travelling cloak he was still wearing from when he arrived, and pushed it from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He drew his own wand from his sleeve, and ran it down the many buttons of his frock coat to unfasten them before placing the carved ebony wood beside her intricately-carved vinewood on the shelf. The partnered wands rested side by side, a symbol of their confirmed love for one another.
He took off his coat, and it joined his cloak on the floor. Hermione pulled his cravat, which she had already untied, from him slowly, allowing it to slither around his neck as she removed it. She then untucked the white shirt from his waistband and fluttered her fingers around the buttons, undoing each one with care as he looked down and watched her, hands by his side and visibly enthralled, no anxiety upon his face.
Once she had it fully open, she slipped her hands under the shirt and touched the warm skin of his pale chest, stroking and reacquainting herself with the feel of him. She ran her fingers through the coarse black hair on his chest and slid them down to the fine line of sparser hair that became softer and led to his groin. She traced the scars and abrasions that she knew so well, and used her forefingers to circle his nipples and make him gasp.
Finally she pushed the shirt from his shoulders and walked around to his back, running her hands over the deep welts from the magical whip with which Voldemort had inflicted his terrible punishment. The skin was red, lumpy and dry, and looked uncared for. She would be resuming applying his calendula balm straight away. She leaned forward and kissed his tortured skin gently, light faerie kisses all over the scarred areas that were the physical evidence of how much this wizard had suffered.
Severus could have wept at her touch. In fact, the itchy state of his eyes meant he probably was. Hermione touched him as no one else on earth had ever done. He used alternate feet to stand on the back of each of his boots and push them off, before turning slightly and pulling her in front of him again. She followed his lead and slipped off her shoes.
He turned her delicately around, gathering up her hair and laying it over one of her shoulders, kissing the side of her neck that he had exposed and enjoying feeling the sensitive flesh shiver underneath his lips. He lifted his hands to the zip and slowly pulled it all the way down, exposing the exquisite skin on her back, inch by inch, before sliding the dress down her arms and allowing it to pool on the floor.
He encircled her with his arms, rubbing her stomach and stroking her breasts reverently, all the time kissing her neck, the familiar and musky scent of him driving her crazy.
"I have said this before tonight," she whispered, stroking the soft black hair on his forearms, "But I really do love you so very much. I did not enjoy being without you."
She felt his lips curl into a smile against her neck, and he drew back, unfastening her bra and pushing it to the floor to join the rest of the small clothes mountain they were making, before sliding his hands back around her and cupping himself a bare breast in each hand.
He began to lightly squeeze them, lifting the satin flesh and circling her nipples with his forefingers. She closed her eyes and leaned back against his chest, and she felt his head dip to her cheek, to her ear, and enjoyed the warmth of his breathing, heavy and sure.
"I intend to ensure that you never have to be without me again," he rumbled, adjusting the position of his large hands that were completely enveloping her breasts and continuing to massage them, bringing them both equal amounts of pleasure.
"I still think you may be Confunded, however."
He barked a quick laugh.
She laughed with him, and spun around in his arms, her hands headed straight for the fastening of his trousers and made quick work of the buttons and zip formation she knew so well. He found them pushed down his narrow hips, his shorts taken with them, and Hermione clearly enjoying the sight of his substantial erection springing free.
Severus looked down.
"Now this will never do."
He flicked his fingers at his black socks, the only item of clothing he was still wearing, and the offending items vanished. She grinned her approval before reaching for him, wanting and needing more kisses which he was only too content to provide. Each stroked their hands over the naked body of the other, as they kissed, open-mouthed and passionately, wanting to touch once again that which they had thought lost.
At length, they stepped towards the bed and crawled to the middle of it, atop the covers since the temperature in the room was so warm, and not just due to the heat of the summer's evening. They rolled together and resumed their kiss, entangling their feet and continuing their searching, stroking exploration with their hands.
Severus began to grind his erection against her, the feel of Hermione in his arms doing all manner of insane things to both his body and his brain. Since she had been the one to request the lovemaking, he felt no guilt whatsoever in toppling her over onto her back and climbing on top, nudging her thighs apart with his own and settling his hips in between, his hard prick pushed tight against her hot, wet cunt.
"Merlin knows how much I need you, Hermione."
"I know, too," she replied, looking up at him with her honest eyes, shining blue in the moonlight.
He eased himself inside her, spreading her walls slowly with his cock, sliding his velvet-over-steel erection further and further, until it was not possible to be any deeper within. She crossed her legs around his back and held him there, and was not surprised to feel the wet splash of a tear upon her cheek.
"I love you, Severus," she reassured him, wiping away his tear. "You will never be alone any more. You have me, forever and always."
Always.
That particular word came back to him like a punch in the gut. The time he had used that word in relation to love, he had not even realised what love meant, what love really felt like.
At that point the feeling he had mistaken for love was guilt, fear, obsession, anger, alongside a sense of obligation and duty – but it had not been love. It had never been love.
What he had beneath him right now?
This was love.
"Always, my darling girl. I will love you always."
He smiled, and she returned it.
He loved, and she returned it.
Severus Snape finally knew, without a shadow of doubt, what love was.
Hermione cocked a cheeky eyebrow and reminded him of the job in hand with a squeeze of her legs that were still wrapped around him.
He shook his hips free of her legs and planted his arms either side of her head, smirking wickedly before beginning to thrust into her, in and out, cramming himself in deep and then drawing nearly all the way out again. As her little squeaks became cries of delight, he angled his hips to fuck her differently, enjoying the look of surprise that passed over her face.
He thrust into her with all his might, his forehead and chest sweating, the veins pulsing in his arms visible through his alabaster-white skin, the ripple of his muscles contracting as he laboured above her. Hermione lifted her arms and interlaced her fingers into his long black hair, the raven strands swinging free about his face as he pistoned into her relentlessly.
He watched her tits wobbling madly as her body jerked with each of his hard thrusts, and lowered himself a little so that he could feel them rub against his chest. That was enough. This witch was fucking perfection itself, as he had said to her just before he kissed her for the very first time that night in the forest, so many months ago now.
He lost hold of his legendary control and let his hips fly free and abandoned, the rapid movement triggering her orgasm and he felt her tight walls spasm around his cock. He carried on slamming into her until he came, shooting his love into her again and again, shouting her name.
He wasn't sure if you consummated an engagement, but if you did, they certainly just had, in the most thorough way possible.
- xxx –
Awaking the next morning to an empty bed and an enticing smell of scrambled eggs wafting up the spiral staircase, Hermione guessed that her dark wizard had made breakfast. In all the passion and excitement of the previous evening she had forgotten one very important fact, her fiancé could cook.
With a broad smile on her face and a frisson of excitement (and hunger) she grabbed a pair of shorts and a vest top, throwing them on before heading downstairs to find Severus flipping a pan of scrambled eggs stark naked, and two plates with strips of smoked salmon already laid out on them with accompanying lemon wedges, and a pot of coffee magically brewing itself on top of the breakfast bar.
"Naked cooking?" she asked, teasingly, "How did I ever get so lucky?"
"I find myself unwilling to get dressed if there is the slightest potential of more sex. Now, sit."
He gestured with the cooking implement (she didn't even know what it was called, the flattish wooden thing he was flipping the eggs with) towards the tall seats behind the breakfast bar, and she headed straight there as he spooned the divine looking scramble onto their plates.
"I am so glad you are here," she told him, through a mouthful of eggs and salmon.
"You told me that many times last night."
"I know, but I wanted to make it clear that this morning I find myself particularly glad."
"And why is that?" he replied, a knowing look on his face, and she suspected he already knew the answer before she gave it.
"Because I think I might have starved to death before long," she admitted, "Cooking and me are just not good bedfellows."
"Well then, that is most fortuitous news, since I am a reasonable enough cook, and an excellent bedfellow."
He took a sip of the freshly-brewed coffee, and attempted not to smirk.
"I'm sorry I can't cook."
"Don't be. You have many other talents that I intend to take full advantage of."
Then he definitely smirked.
- xxx –
After an afternoon spent getting some fresh sea air on the beach, they returned to the cottage so that Severus could indeed take advantage of a very particular talent of Hermione's that he (and his penis) had missed very much.
Following a light early supper, they had sat on the swing-seat in the cottage garden discussing living arrangements.
"I do not wish ever to live without you again," he had told her, earnestly and sincerely.
They agreed that during a normal working week they would live at Severus' barn from Sunday night until Friday evening, when they would travel to Hermione's cottage and spend the weekend there, unless they had other plans.
"And what other plans might we have?" Severus queried.
"Seeing friends, socialising, having a life," Hermione had answered, enjoying the alarm that had spread across his face, folding her arms and lifting her chin in a manner he already knew meant that this item was not negotiable.
He secretly knew that, anyway.
"I understand. I may ... I may, have to ask for your assistance, Hermione. I am not accustomed to being social, nor having friends."
"Anything we do; will be done together. I am by your side, and proud to be there. Anything for the man who cooks my breakfast," she added, with a wink that drew his famously lop-sided smile to the corner of his mouth.
Once again she had silenced him with her words. Proud to be by his side? He was half-afraid he would wake up from this most exquisite of dreams and find himself back in the Hogwarts dungeons awaiting his arm to burn with his next summons from the Dark Lord.
- xxx –
Hermione found herself running late for work on Monday morning, not because she had awoken late, in fact she had been awake earlier than usual due to a hard and inquisitive erection poking her in the back, but because the aforementioned erection had proved most distracting once she made the mistake of engaging with it.
Unable to resist the enticing warmth and uniquely delicious smell of Severus curled behind her, and the touch of his large hand cupping her naked breast, he had with her consent entered her languorously from behind, stoking her inner flame with his morning enthusiasm.
He had been lazily toying with her nipple after fucking them both to a luxurious orgasm when she realised it was actually Monday, and she was due at work. There was no way she could go without a shower, not after what Severus had just stirred up between her legs, and that would make her even later.
After throwing her clothes on and tying her damp hair up in a ponytail, she grabbed her bag and made for the fireplace in the bedroom, where he came over to kiss her goodbye, clad only in his soft grey pyjama pants that he had pulled on.
"One kiss. One kiss, Severus, I mean it. I am already late."
She struggled to resist the desire on his face as he took his allotted kiss, but remained close to her, hoping she would change her mind and allow him another. Merlin, he'd drag her back to bed and fuck her again if he could. His desire must have been obvious to her.
"You are entirely too handsome. I will get you back for this later," she threatened.
"One can only hope," he smirked, putting his hands in his pockets and reluctantly allowing her to leave, watching her throw the Floo powder into the flames and step through.
- xxx –
Hermione arrived in the office, late, but not tardy enough to be caught by Pridmore, who was yet to put in an appearance in the department, as she saw from the open door of his empty corner office. She approached her desk to see Esther smiling broadly and winking in a coarsely suggestive manner, and her heart leapt to see a gorgeous bouquet of flowers upon her desk, waiting for her.
Her Severus. How he had managed to arrange this sweet surprise when to her knowledge he had been with her every second since they rekindled their relationship she did not know, but then Severus often managed things that seemed to be so far even beyond magic, she would not doubt his capability at anything he set his mind to.
She sent her cloak flying over to the stand and sat down at her desk, after throwing her bag in the drawer, enjoying the perfume of the blooms and untying the small scroll of scented parchment that was attached to the large purple ribbon that tied them.
Hermione
I had a wonderful time the other week.
I am so sorry we've not seen each other since then, as you can imagine, my department at the hospital been crazy busy setting up the distribution of the new Wolfsbane, we have all been working overtime since the ruling.
Please accept my sincere apology, and agree to coming out with me on Friday night?
There's a new restaurant in Horizont Alley that I would love to take you to. I've made reservations for 8pm.
Yours
David Bergin
Esther was looking at her expectantly, clearly dying to find out who the extravagant bouquet was from, and what it said on the note.
David.
Fuck.
She had forgotten all about him.
