bChapter Three/b

"I…what?" Her brown eyes searched his, looking for the lie.

His gaze softened. "Didn't you know?"

She shook her head mutely.

Had she really gone all this time thinking she was broken? His poor Alpha. He slid his hand down her cheek, and she nuzzled into his palm. Charmed, he let his hand continue until he cupped the back of her neck, his fingers seeking something.

Hermione stared into his eyes as his fingers caressed the back of her neck. He held her gaze, his lips parted and sallow cheeks still holding spots of pink. Then he touched something that made her tremble.

"There," he breathed. His fingers stroked the bump at the base of her skull. "Do you feel it?"

"Yes," she whispered, knees feeling weak and desire pooling. He stroked the scent gland again and again. "I didn't…I mean, I don't…"

"It's rare," he murmured. "But not unheard of. You would only scent the omega meant for you."

IOnly me/I hung unspoken in the air between them.

"Oh."

Things were clicking into place for her. She wasn't broken. She hadn't come across this in her reading, but she also knew she hadn't exhausted every resource.

"What now?"

"What indeed." He studied her, waiting. "That is your decision. I have already made mine."

Hermione closed her eyes. His fingers stilled their movement, clearly letting her think. Did she want this? Him? She was lonely. She wanted what everyone else seemed to have. A partner. A friend. She opened her eyes again.

A mate.

"We can work the rest out later," she said.

Severus bent his head to hers, and she surged to her tiptoes, burrowing her fingers in his hair to drag his mouth to hers. She tilted her head at the last moment so his nose would rest against her cheek and parted her lips against his.

He tasted like cheap beer, but she decided not to nitpick his choice of beverage and instead coax his tongue into her mouth. He groaned, plundering her with his tongue.

Her answering growl surprised her, but he simply pulled her closer to the heat of his body. There was no hiding his erection from her; not when the hard length of it pressed against her belly.

He bucked his hips, either unconsciously or intentionally, and she growled again, dragging her nails down the coarse wool of his frock coat, frustrated. She wanted his skin on hers. She wanted to see him. Touch him.

iTaste/i him.

"Bed," she demanded between kisses.

"Yes," he replied. He kissed her again, harsh with need, before dragging her up a narrow staircase half-hidden behind a bookshelf.

The stairs were worn and rickety beneath her impractical shoes, but his hands were sure and steady as he led the way down a short hall to what was clearly his bedroom. Hermione was surprised to see that it was nearly bare—a wardrobe rather than a closet, and a double bed crammed next to a nightstand. No personal touches aside from the book and candle on the nightstand. No paintings. No photographs. It was lonely. As lonely as she was.

What was it he had said?

iWhere have you been?/i

Her poor mate. He hadn't been asking physically where she'd been. He'd been asking why he'd been alone.

She hadn't been alone, per se, but had been just as lonely.

A flick of his hand and the wardrobe opened, another flick and the worn grey duvet swept itself off the bed. Something else floated out of the bottom of the wardrobe, and he left her side to grasp it almost reverently. It was a duvet of rich dark blue velvet, plush and thick. He spread it out over the bed, smoothing it with a gentle caress, and Hermione gasped softly as she realised what it was.

He had inlaid the duvet with a wide circle of beautifully stitched runes, symbols, and flowers. It was clearly hand-done, and she could see the first clumsy attempts in the silver threading of the vines twisting among the flowers before the stitching became more sure. She knew from her year on the run just how hard making tidy stitches could be, let alone this work of art.

Trust Severus Snape to create a nest of pure, understated beauty, rather than the usual pile of blankets and pillows arranged just so.

"It's perfect," she breathed.

Satisfaction rose in him like a wave. His thin lips curved into a pleased smirk. Even without heat, he had wanted to show her.

"I am glad it meets your approval," he drawled.

She smiled to herself. This was such a different side of him from the professor she'd known, from the man whose bedside she had visited.

She rather liked it. Liked him. Maybe this whole mate thing wouldn't be as forced and foreign as she had first worried it would be.

Placing her hand on his chest, Hermione stretched on tiptoes to kiss him. He really did smell divine, and here in his bedroom it enveloped her. When she let herself taste his mouth, let her defenses down, it felt right. Like pieces sliding into place. Never mind the strangeness of kissing a former professor, it was as if her body knew he was more than that.

Severus kissed her back, letting her set the pace and tone. There was none of the neediness he knew from facing things alone, but his heat would come later. Right now, he wanted her to choose him. Not that he was particularly worried about how they would match outside of a sexual encounter. She was talented and intelligent, a champion for underdogs. And who was a more championable underdog than a former Death Eater?

Hermione's hands slid to the myriad of buttons on his frock coat, flicking the top one open with ease. He sighed against her mouth, and her belly flipped. The Severus Snape she knew was a powerful wizard, as sarcastic and cutting as he was loyal...and here he was, letting her lead. Letting her take whatever she wanted. It was heady knowledge.

Each button slipped from its snug hole under her fingers, and his breathing was quickened against her lips as they exchanged kisses. She wanted to see him. To see if that first feeling of neediness that she'd felt in the bar would lead to something amazing like it had for her friends. She had heard them talk about their heat, about even regular sex with their partners, and longed for something even half as fulfilling.

She pushed the heavy wool coat off of his shoulders, and he shrugged out of it. It fell to the floor with a hushed sound. She broke their current kiss in annoyance as her hands felt the small smooth buttons of his shirt.

"Just how many layers do you ihave/i?"

He chuckled, a low, rich sound.

"Just the last." A wave of his hand and the white buttons undid themselves, his shirt falling open.

Then it joined his coat on the floor.

"Oh my." Her voice was hushed. iVery/i nice indeed. She looked him over appreciatively. She'd never gone for the athletic sort, but Severus had quite a nice bit of muscle on his arms, and she wanted to card her fingers through the coarse black hair on his chest and belly. He looked delicious and her teeth sank into her lower lip. She also wanted to nibble those little copper nipples and follow that trail of hair where it disappeared into his waistband.

"May I?" he asked silkily, interrupting her mental planning of her preferred method of attack.

Hermione smiled and turned, lifting her curls up so he could access the zip of her dress. It wasn't a particularly revealing number, but also not particularly prim, either.

He didn't go straight for the zip, instead brushing his lips over the back of her neck, and she trembled. She couldn't remember the last time a lover had taken their time. It was usually an alcohol-fuelled tumble in the sheets and gone before sunrise. Not a man who drew the zipper down slowly, following with his mouth. His mouth was hot and wet along her spine and she felt aroused and cherished.

She inhaled sharply as he tugged at her dress: it slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her hips, and the bloody man slid his tongue just under the waistband of her knickers. Her knees quivered as she turned to face him, shoving her dress off her hips to fall to the floor and kicking off her shoes in one frantic motion.

He was on his knees before her; their eyes met and her breathing stuttered for just a moment as her brain spiralled into a decidedly naughty place before she wrested it back to the moment—she was certain he'd caught the mental image of her pressed against the wall as he feasted on her as she caught the curve of his lips.

Hermione huffed out an impatient breath even as his gaze dropped to her small bare breasts appreciatively. "You've still got trousers on."

With a grace she envied, he rose to his feet. She watched avidly as those long fingers drew a trail down his belly to the placket. Yup, definitely having thoughts for later. Those same fingers were deft as they flicked the buttons free. She was almost disappointed that Severus wore pants, not that she'd have thought anything of it had she dared to imagine his underthings at any previous point in her life. Now, she was just frustrated that it was yet another layer.

From this angle she couldn't see the bump on his shoulder, the one that should she bite would mate them, but she'd seen it when he'd knelt at her feet.

And then her concentration was gone as he pushed his trousers down, taking his pants with them, and stepped free of them. "Now you are the one who is overdressed."

The words were a purr, and she was too transfixed by the site of his long, lovely cock—the nose had indeed been an excellent indicator—to toss off a smart-mouthed reply. Instead, Hermione stepped out of her own knickers. Lace, and chosen expressly because she'd gone out with the intention to shag.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, trying for confidence. "Like what you see?"

"Oh yes," he breathed, nostrils flaring.

She was lovely. Rounded and feminine and his. All for him.

"In a way, I'm glad we met before the heat came. I want to experience this without that colouring it."

Hermione tilted her head. "This?"

He gestured between them. "Sex. Us. The heat is...mindless, almost. It takes over."

"You've never—?" She let it trail off delicately.

Severus shook his head.

"No. How could I?" He gestured to his shoulder. "A Muggle would have no idea what this was or be repulsed. And even if I had found a beta willing to bed ime/i..."

It hadn't been worth the risk, she realised. The more time she'd spent in the Ministry, listening to lunchroom chatter, the more she'd realised that alphas put far too much emphasis on their masculinity and virility. It would have set him up for even worse torment than he'd endured. He would have been more than rejected from their society, along with any hope of finding his mate.

Of finding her.

"Well," Hermione said with a wicked smile, an idea forming. "Let's make sure we do this right, shall we?"

One arched eyebrow winged up, questioning. His cock certainly seemed on board as it bobbed enthusiastically at her words. But he didn't ask, just stepped closer to tilt her chin upwards and bend to kiss her once more.

Hermione met him halfway with parted lips. He'd already proven to be an excellent kisser. She slid her hands down his arms, pulling them around her waist. A groan rumbled through his chest, and she revelled in it.

As if he'd been waiting for her to make the first steps, and perhaps he had been, his hands explored her back.

Fuck but she smelled incredible. His hands smoothed her shoulder blades; his fingers trailed patterns over her flesh. Severus had given up the hope of finding his alpha, but here she was, with him. Kissing him.

She grasped his arse and pulled him tightly to her, and he gasped into her mouth as his cock pressed against the smooth, warm flesh of her belly. He tried to control his own explorations, not wanting to rush this.

Clearly, Hermione preferred to rush.

She gave his buttocks a firm squeeze and placed a final kiss on his lips before pulling back and walking him to the bed.

"Lay down," she directed.

He obeyed without hesitation. Smiling, Hermione joined him on the bed, crawling up his body.

As she crossed into the circle he'd stitched, she felt the shiver of the magic he'd sewn into it. Protection and comfort and something that felt suspiciously like longing and love. Her smile gentled. Her brilliant mate. It was becoming easier to think of him as her mate, and she wondered how his heat would be when it came.

Perhaps he was right, and it was better for them to begin this without that clouding their minds.

Severus seemed content to let her take the lead and so she did, kissing his jaw, nibbling on his earlobe, his neck. She catalogued every inhale, every moan, encouraging his hands to explore her. He seemed particularly interested in her breasts, cupping them and thumbing her nipples before pinching them gently.

Hermione moved lower, licking the hollow of his throat just below, tasting the salt of him. When her mouth moved lower, following her own fingers through the crisp black hair on his chest, his hands left her breasts, resting instead on her shoulders.

His thumbs swirled idle patterns across her skin, and her palms slid down. Her mouth followed and his chest stilled as he held his breath. Hermione lapped one flat nipple and he tensed; then she suckled and he groaned, the sound reverberating.

In triumph, she attended to both nipples, feeling iSeverus Snape/i, former Death Eater and spy, former stern professor, come undone under her touch. His hands were still gentle on her, his stomach flexing as she followed her hands lower, following that trail of hair that had so interested her earlier. His stomach jumped under her touch as she found his cock, touching and caressing with gentle fingers.

Her teeth sank into her lower lip when his breathing hitched. Her grip tightened when the pink on his cheeks could only be called a blush. She stroked him firmly as that blush went further, as his hands fisted and came up to cover his face.

Taking that as her cue, she dropped her head, and on the next downstroke of her hand she swallowed his length. Severus made a keening sound, his hips bucking.

God and Merlin, but making this man make that sound was fucking sexy.

She hummed around him, flattened her tongue, and laved the underside of the head, determined to find what made him lose control and make his first blowjob impressive. His voice was ragged, and she knew he was close when his hands left his face to grab her hair, lifting her curls and pushing her head down to meet the thrusts of his hips. He was barely coherent when his back arched and he came with a cry that ended on a choked gasp, the salt and bitterness flooding her mouth. Hermione waited until he'd let go of her hair before politely Vanishing the mouthful rather than swallowing.

hr/hr

He flexed his fingers, carefully extracting them from her hair. She looked far too pleased with herself; not that he could blame her. Nothing he had managed by himself had ever been half so spectacular.

"That was an unexpected beginning," he drawled when he was able to find words.

Hermione laughed and stroked his cheek.

"Yes, but you deserved it. You've waited so long."

Severus snorted softly. "I could have waited a good bit longer."

"Ah, but now you'll last."

"Was there doubt before?" he said in the most foreboding tone he could manage.

"No," Hermione told him cheerfully. She crawled up his body and kissed him, cuddling against his side. "I just figured that you're usually one with intense focus, and I'd like that on ius/i rather than worrying about ending things too soon."

He snorted again, but pressed his hand over the one she held against his chest. That it was over his heart wasn't lost on him. He had high hopes for their match, assuming she wanted to claim and keep him. It wasn't common for an alpha to not claim their mate, like had happened to his mother, but also wasn't entirely unheard of. Sometimes alphas would take care of the heat of their omegas and just...never bite. Never mate them fully. Not even during heat.

Severus iwanted/i to be claimed.

hr/hr

Hermione nuzzled his neck, kissing and nipping. Now that their lovely interlude had been taken care of, it was time for him to learn what she liked and how to do it properly. She was a bossy witch in bed, she knew, another mark against her Muggle liasons. She smiled against Severus's throat—she would never have to deal with seeking a partner again.

She had Severus now.

Her mate.

His fingers tightened around her hand, and she slipped it free to tilt his face to hers, coaxing him to kiss her. He didn't need further prompting, following her lead. Hermione wondered briefly if he had always been a follower rather than a leader—likely. Well, she wasn't going to complain. Not when he took to learning her body the way he would a potion.

Deciding she loved the feel of his blunt, calloused fingers caressing her skin, Hermione rolled onto her back, tugging him over her. His lean body was warm against hers, the coarse hair on his legs and chest and arms a delight. He smelled like home. Something warm and male and uniquely ihers/i. She would know his smell anywhere.

She would never be without him again.

hr/hr

Severus kissed her skin with near-reverence. His mate was here, and encouraging him to do as he wished. To explore. To create the rise and fall of moans within her. It was intoxicating. He skimmed his fingers over her ribs, and she huffed out a laugh. Her flesh pebbled under gentle touches. The flush on her neck spread to her cheeks, but no further.

Fascinated, he tasted her breasts. Hermione's hands tangled in his hair to move or keep him where she wanted him. She told him exactly what she wanted in breathy tones, her chest rising and falling with sweet cries as he followed her urging to move lower. The scent of his mate mingled now with the scent of her sex. He slid one finger through her folds, felt the beat of her heart under her skin jump, then quicken.

"Go on," Hermione said on a moan. "Keep going..."

Her fingers twisted in his lank hair, and he followed the trail of his hands with his mouth as she had done for him. He loved the noises she made, being able to make her feel even half as deliciously good as he had felt during her own ministrations. Severus listened to every gasp, every groan, every instruction.

Two fingers inside her, then three, following every whispered "ithere/i!"

He lowered his mouth to taste her; the salty-sweet musk of her. It drowned his senses. iAlpha/i.

Hermione gasped sharply as he licked her. Her thighs cradled his head, and a talented hand wrapped around one to prevent her from crushing him. She grasped at his hair, pulling and tugging when the ability to speak left her. Fuck, but he was a quick study. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears as she was reduced to the inability to do more than moan and buck her hips.

The scent of her was in the air, beckoning. Severus kept to his ardent task, aiming to impress. He traced letters around her clitoris. He licked folds of her labia, suckled her little nub. Anything that got a reaction, he repeated. He followed every lift of her hips, determined to pleasure his alpha even if he had to hold her down to do it. He wanted to impress himself upon her, show her he would be a good omega, her perfect mate.

Hermione suddenly stiffened, her back arching as a keening cry filled his ears. Her channel tightened rhythmically around his fingers, the little pearl in his mouth pulsing with her heartbeat. The fingers in his hair dragged across his scalp, and he shuddered.

Then he was being pulled, urged up to see his pleased, glassy-eyed alpha before she scattered kisses all over his face.

It wasn't until a hand left his hair to grasp his cock that he realised he was hard once more. She stroked him again as he gasped and shuddered until he pushed her hand away. Hermione grinned at him, urging him between her legs with murmured words of encouragement. His eyes fell closed as he slid home, the sensation swamping him.

Warm. Slick.

Heaven.

Each slow drag in and out of her was pure heaven. The way she arched her back, how she pulled him down to wrap her arms around his back and the sweet sting of her nails. The little gasps and whimpers and moaned directions to ensure they were both pleasured.

Hermione purposefully tightened herself around him, adjusting her legs until the head of that lovely, perfect cock hit right where she wanted it to. Her teeth sank into her lower lip. He was actually incredibly sexy right now, debauched as he was. Certainly, her mate was stringy and pallid and—iooh, that was a good thrust!/i—but the way the cords on his neck strained, the way those thin lips parted with every breath, the flush spread across his lightly-furred chest... It was a very ivery/i good look on him.

Finding it hard to breathe as she got closer to a second climax—another good point in his favour, he took direction well—Hermione pulled him down, pushing his hair away from his shoulder. She nibbled and licked between pants until finally, she came, pulsing around his cock. On the final gasp of her orgasm, she bit him.

Severus didn't realise he was holding his breath in anticipation until it exploded out of him as her teeth sank into the raised gland on his shoulder. His world ended then, as fire crawled up his spine and he lost control of his thrusts. Tears fell. Her teeth marked him, claimed him, remade him. He wasn't alone anymore. Would never be.

His alpha, his mate, had made him hers.

Hermione was stroking his hair with gentle fingers when he managed to lift his head from where he'd pillowed it on her soft breasts. She smiled at him, cupping his cheek to kiss him.

"My mate," she said in a low, reverent tone.

"My mate," he replied hoarsely.