Fides in Culpa

A/N: PHEW! This is dirty, dirty! Enjoy :D

Chapter Nine: Gentle, Gentle

Snape didn't attempt to take her bait; he made a soft noise, a whisper of an empty chuckle. At first, she thought that whatever he had inspired in her—something between a subtle fear and arousal—had merely been incidental. However, Snape, still restraining her wrist with his fingers, pulled her forward within inch of his face. He wasn't harsh with her, but Rita's taunting smirk ebbed away into a small frown—but her eyes betrayed her face. He wasn't ever like the rest of the Death Eaters that Rita had ever accompanied: he didn't wildly assert his dominance nor did he have to immediately curse somebody in order to show them that he was a dangerous man. The lull in his deep baritone, with each word spoken in deliberate calculation, was assertion enough. His lips were within centimeters of hers,

"I am not one of your foot soldiers to command," said Snape softly, "I am not a healer to nurse you back to health when you return from one of your outings, whether or not you are doing the Dark Lord's bidding."

"I know—" Rita began quietly—

"Hush."

Rita pursed her lips, surprised at his command, though not inherently angry with him. Snape raised a hand to her face, and she felt his fingers caress the height of her cheekbone. His gaze was intense, though it seemed as if he had been thinking about what he was going to say for a long time. Even as he spoke, his eyes flickered between her mouth and then met her gaze,

"I'm wondering exactly where would I stand when the Dark Lord calls you to release our friends in Azkaban." Snape said. "For years, we've simply had an understanding. A certain degree of acceptance for each other's heartache without inciting the details of why it is so."

"Jealousy, Severus?" asked Rita lightly. "After all these years?"

"I am not entirely sold on the idea that if Bellatrix breaks your heart again that you will choose me to fall back on, Rita." Snape said.

"You're not a second choice," Rita began defensively, but Snape didn't believe her.

"Am I not?" Such soft words spoken in a cutting edge; Rita felt tension creep in her chest.

Rita replied, "I love you. And why would I not? Why question that?"

He didn't respond.

"What, do you have reservations that I might be using you?" asked Rita quietly. "If so, I might ask you a question in return, Severus. If Lily Evans were still alive, would you and I be having this conversation right now? If she had lived, you'd have never given me a second thought."

"We had no second thoughts," said Snape curtly. He released her entirely. "We were childhood friends, desolate when the Dark Lord fell; and we had a drink and the rest is history."

"Fell in love," Rita reminded him. "You fell for me; and I, for you. How could you accuse me of loving you any less than Bella if you loved me while still aching for Lily? We also agreed not to venture into each other's history for either of them, Severus. You wouldn't ask about the complications between Bella and I; and—"

"Complications." Snape repeated the word softly.

"Yes, complications." Rita said with an assertive nod. "It's complicated. But it's not complicated with you and me. Or, at the very least, not as."

She leaned back against the couch, glancing at him apologetically.

Couldn't it be possible to love two people at the same time with as much passion as one person could love another? Severus, for his impenetrable mind and subtle ways of dominance, clear reasoning and his unbiased opinion of whether she practiced the Dark Arts or walked the straight and narrow path, had always been an allure for her. He could fill in the blanks where Bellatrix and her other comrades could not. Didn't he see it when she looked at him? Didn't he feel it when she lay in bed beside him and simply watched him sleep? Didn't he know that she loved both the goodness he portrayed at Hogwarts and the darkness he revealed in front of the Dark Lord?

And Bella—sheer power and the full force of what the Dark Lord wanted in each of his followers, a powerful duelist and an unhinged mind whom sought out the best in Rita, even if she couldn't see it for herself. Perhaps displaced, perhaps disorganized, perhaps only mislead by Bellatrix's sex appeal and the way she could dominate any room that she stepped in—but when Rita and Bella were together, nothing else mattered. Nothing.

"What of you?" asked Rita after a long moment of silence.

"What of me?" Snape said, whom had gone into the kitchen to retrieve—no doubt—a couple of drinks to dilute the silence. Rita looked at him over her shoulder.

"Well, I can't help but wonder if you enjoy it."

"Enjoy vying for my wife's affection when she dreams, not of me, but of her mistress who coherently cursed her in order to avoid losing her?" Snape said tonelessly as he poured wine into two glasses. "I understand the ramifications of what Bella has done, and I understand the Curse. However, I am human; and you will excuse that I don't particularly enjoy knowing—yes, Rita, knowing—that when Bellatrix is freed, you will run back to her belittling and harsh treatment that she so generously apportions to you whenever her temper is riled."

Rita had given him a look, though she didn't object to what he said. After all, Snape had never laid a hand on her; he hadn't ever tried to manipulate her. And he certainly had never placed her under the Cruciatus Curse. But he wasn't the one who trained her, Rita thought. He hadn't seen what she had been like when she discovered her first husband and daughter had been killed. Bella was kind once. Bella was gentle once. She had her moments.

Snape strode through the living room and sat down beside her. He handed her glass, which she politely took from him and sipped it generously.

"You've not snapped at me," observed Snape. "This might be one of the first few conversations that we've had where we've descended into dangerous territory and you haven't lashed out."

"I just don't know what to say," said Rita with a shrug.

"I'm stunned," Snape returned, sipping from his glass.

Rita made a soft chuckle, "Heh, me too."

Perhaps to take two Slytherins as lovers might have been Rita's first mistake when she had entered Hogwarts in her first year. A Hufflepuff who had kept the company of Slytherins had definitely raised a few brows, but her own family had been sorted into Slytherin year after year. It wouldn't have been shocking. Perhaps if Rita had opted to take Remus Lupin as a boyfriend, her life might have been clearer. But it wasn't so. In a world full of Aurors and Death Eaters, it could have only gone two ways. It definitely made things a little muddy; and perhaps love should have been a simple concept, but it had many layers.

Rita finished her glass and placed it on the coffee table in front of her. She turned her head to watch Severus take a few more sips of his glass, spinning it idly between his fingers, as he stared fixedly ahead, no doubt lost in more thought of the conversation that they had finished. Or rather, left unfinished: nothing absolved, more to be said, probably. She noted that sometimes, she translated his silence as hatred; but Severus was a man of many thoughts. One could be blessed to hear what all he really was thinking.

A highly-trained Occlumens. An accomplished Legilimens. Rita sucked on her tongue, enjoying the taste of the Elf-made wine on her taste buds, enjoying the thought more even if he could see any filthy thought that crossed her mind. She fidgeted her ring around her wedding finger with an itch of temptation. Rita passed a hand through her hair, pulling the long, dark locks over her shoulder. With an inkling that perhaps he wouldn't be so willing to take her bait, she let her fingers crawl up his back and rest along the nape of his neck.

Whatever deep rumination that Severus had been resting on, he pulled out of it, looking at her pointedly.

"Something on your mind, Darling?" Snape said, and although he sounded disinterested, he joined his glass on the table and leaned back to look at her. He could see it on her face: the slight flush in her cheeks, the glossy-eyed look that came over her whenever there was a small shroud of arousal. Did he enjoy it? She had asked him. Perhaps she does.

"Put me in my place, Severus." Rita said, her pitch dropping with intentional seduction. "Make me submit to you so I know that you aren't just my faithful pet—"

He removed her hand from him, "Submission isn't exactly a hard thing to ask of you, is it? You're no stranger to a rough hand, whether it's an intimate setting or if you're being put under the Cruciatus Curse—either one satisfies you the same, doesn't it?"

She blew him off with a scathing noise, "I told you that in confidence—"

Severus shook his head, "You would hardly know what to do if I were gentle with you. 'Put you in your place'…" The sentence, although she might have said it to him, sounded delicious on his tongue, though there was disdain there. "You're quite comfortable with being slammed up against a wall or onto a floor"—Or up against a tree, Rita thought, but she didn't dare enter that into the line-up.

"Isn't that how you like it as well?" Rita asked, gesturing to him skeptically. "All these years, I've never heard you object to it."

"Hardly any room to object," said Snape.

Rita didn't think that he sounded as if he absolutely hated the idea of their rough games. So, she liked to be dominated, so she liked domination through pain—Perhaps she hadn't ever thought that he might have preferred it a different way? She made a small laugh, and rose to her feet.

She saw him cock his head to the side, a manner of resisting to make a snide remark; she strode to the coat rack and disrobed, revealing her bloodstained t-shirt from where the curse had marked her arm. Right in the middle of the living room, Rita pulled off her top and threw it at him. Snape gave a sigh and pulled it off his head, tossing it into his armchair. Although he looked irritated, Rita gave another laugh—

"Perhaps if every time you were in the mood," said Snape casually, rising to his feet, "you wouldn't provoke me, we would actually have—"

"What, Severus? Intimacy," Rita let the word roll off her tongue with a slight jerk of her chin. She could rile him; she could get under his skin. I could tempt him, she knew it. "Sex is sex, Darling."

"There are things that should come first," said Snape, showing an impressive amount of patience.

"I'm so certain we always do those things that come first." Rita whispered with a cocky little flick of her tongue; she pulled down her pants, stripping in the living room as casually as the conversation would allow.

"You're talking about foreplay," said Snape.

"Of course, that's what I'm talking about." She stopped undressing, standing in her bra and panties and planted her hands on her hips.

What was he on about? His wandering eyes along her half-naked body, she suddenly felt self-conscious; but he had seen her several times before while she had undressed in the bedroom. Why was this any different? And he specifically said that certain things came first…Before what, rough sex? Foreplay was never a problem. The one time in the Potions Classroom had been gentle enough, hadn't it? They both had a wonderful time. He called me Ms. Rita, she reflected with a smile.

"If you're talking about romance," said Rita with an air of cynicism, "I've always thought that you worked well in that department."

"How would you know about that?" said Snape, and he sounded quite sure in that sentiment. He was fully-clothed, and he circled the couch to stand in front of her, gazing down at her half-naked form. "When exactly do you remember ever experiencing romance with me?"

"Well, our first night together was quite zealous, as I recall."

"A night accompanied by two bottles of wine at the Hog's Head Inn is romantic to you?" He said as if Rita had let him know exactly where the bar was: possibly lower than he had expected.

"It was passionate," Rita said with a nod, very aware of how close Severus stood in front of her. She deflected as much as she could (he is standing so close and he hasn't touched me yet; I feel butterflies, well that's normal, isn't it? He's my husband). Rita gave a small shrug of her supple shoulders, aware that her neck felt warm and a tingling sensation traveled down her stomach as Severus continued to watch her under his penetrating gaze. "It was hot and heavy. Don't you remember? I could describe it to you if you'd like." An emphasis on the word, which brought a smirk to the corner of his lips.

"Hm," Snape said, point-proven. "Because I slammed you against a wall—"

"Against many other objects: a door, the bed, an end table was involved," Rita replied with a smirk, remembering the night fondly.

"And that is how you'd like me to, in your own words, put you in your place," Snape said calmly. "Perhaps you would like me to assert myself in a manner that would constitute as rape, would that put you in your place, Rita?"

Rita stared at him. She knew he would never try, she knew that he wouldn't dare, and yet the idea of him taking her against her will—a particular dark sexual fantasy—had popped into her mind once or twice, though she'd never speak of it out loud. However, as much as she'd like to think that he would never do something as violating as that, her breath hitched in her throat as an image of her husband taking her half-naked body over the couch and tearing the rest of her clothes off her in order to do what he wanted to her—Stop, he's reading your—

Her last-minute revelation that she had thought of before instigating him reflected back into her mind. His penetrating gaze, unblinking eye contact, and with how clear he had spoken the words made Rita wonder if he had been actually read her mind, for Severus made a small noise that sounded like a point had been proven.

"I wouldn't," Snape said softly, as if to settle an unlocked fear.

He pinched her chin between two fingers and closed the gap between them, and placed a soft kiss against her lips. She wanted him to prolong the kiss, pull her in deeper, harder—Perhaps he had a point about her rough preference—and he went to pull away from her, but she caught his bottom lip in her teeth in a nip.

"You wouldn't know what to do if I were gentle with you, Rita," he said tenderly. "You will provoke the moment in a quick, desperation to quench your thirst."

He leaned in and uttered a low growl in her ear, "No pain, Rita. Only this…"

And to prove his point, she felt his hand dip between her abdomen and panty line, coming to rest between her legs in gentle caress—A small moan escaped her lips, wanton and needing, and then she realized what he meant:

Just pleasure.

That's a new idea, Rita thought, for she couldn't remember any time during her relationship with Bella or her affair with Lupin—even her marriage with Severus—where she hadn't climaxed without using pain as the aggravator. She bit her lip, moving one leg further apart and she thought he'd only tease her; but the off chance that she'd be so willing to understand his point further—Mmm…

Severus inclined, moving his hand inside her underwear, prodding a finger between her lips in a light stroke; Rita's teeth bit down on her bottom lip, realizing how long it had been since they had a quiet moment together since the Dark Lord's revival—and still, another moan left her throat. Severus cut her soft sounds short, locking her mouth with his as he led her back to the couch.

He set her on his lap, her back against his chest. She didn't try to assert her dominance, rather allowed him to take over. Clearly, there had been something she had been missing about his gentle side; for the sensations that were quelling inside her core felt as if they came alive as he spread her legs on either side of his. She leaned back against his shoulder, letting her head fall as he slipped his hand down her panties once more, resuming his ministrations. Only pleasure, he had said. No pain.

A rush of warmth, and her body felt hot; and she only knew so for he placed cool kisses against the sensitive part of her neck, sending new chills down her spine and a fresh stipple of goosebumps along her arms and up the back of her legs. She felt his fingers prod her entrance, as with how easily his fingertips had slipped inside—He's making me wet…

As if to confirm it, though she already knew, a delicious sound came from behind her against the back of her neck—His soft sigh of approval. Her thighs clenched with his withdrawal, for he didn't entirely penetrate her with his fingers, just enough to tease her. Her hips moved against him, a silent plea for friction. Severus wrapped a hand around her waist, keeping her still. Rita raised a hand to grip the back of his head, wordlessly again asking for him to slip his fingers inside her—he didn't.

Instead, a single digit found her clit, and made throbbing, slow circles around her swollen bud. She uttered heavy breaths, arching her back against him, unable to pull her legs shut in order to quell the desire for him to move faster. Focused on his ministrations below the belt, Rita gave a small moan as she felt his hand around her waist climb under her bra and lightly squeeze her breast—and his lips kissed just underneath her earlobe—Oh my god…

No pain, no wincing, no bruises—Just about to break under the surface of his touch—His finger slipped from her swollen clit and slid between her folds, coaxing at her entrance, dripping in arousal. Rita felt her hips buck, trying to meet him; but every time she pleaded for him to slip inside of her, he'd pull away, only to resume his gentle—too gentle—touch. Her grinding against him, though, hadn't gone unnoticed for Rita; for she felt him grow underneath her. He liked it this way too, hearing her, touching her.

"Stand up," Snape's voice which had been calm before was a low growl, much to Rita's approval. Although her legs felt like jelly, she rose to her feet, turning in place. He rose to his feet as well. Rita saw his hands reach to the buttons of his clothes—She smirked, and waved her hand. Much to Snape's curious expression, every button answered her wandless spell, and unbuttoned simultaneously, and the sleeves pulled off him obediently. His garb went to sit in his armchair, much to Rita's amusement. So there he was, half-naked—wearing only his trousers.

Rita shrugged when he looked back at her. "Just a spell I know."

"Clever little witch," Snape said—He might have said it with an air of approval, but he wore a dark smirk. He gestured to the couch. "On your back."

Rita, following her vow not to provoke or aggravate him, merely smirked at him and did as she was told. She set her head on the arm of the couch, and the butterflies returned as he took his place between her legs. Knowing he wouldn't immediately return to what he had been doing, she gave a slow exhale, to calm her racing heartbeat—So, he meant to seduce her. Perhaps that was his point all along.

She couldn't recall actually being seduced; unless she counted the times where Bellatrix had pushed her up against a wall—Well, if we aren't counting wall push-ups as seduction, then not really ever, Rita thought curiously, then again—

"Mmm…" was the sound that came out of her as Severus kissed her inner thigh, sweeping a hand against the other to gently graze the material of her panties. His only rough mannerism was keeping her legs apart, which only felt to heighten the sensation that he was so close to where she wanted him, but not where she wanted him to be.

Rita reached beneath her, unhooked her bra, and pulled it off, letting it fall to the floor.

"Growing impatient, are we?" he asked, his mouth fleshed against her skin. His eyes had been closed, but they opened to look up at her.

Rita gestured with all ten fingers for him to climb up. His face softened in an amusing smile, but he declined; though she saw his eyes flicker over her naked breasts momentarily. And as if he had another thought cross his brilliant mind, Rita beamed as he did as she asked, hovering over her. Rita silently cupped her breasts in the palm of her hands, a quiet invitation. Severus replaced one hand with his mouth, enveloping a stiff nipple between his lips, and Rita uttered a thankful moan. She arched her back into him; her hips beckoned, grinding against him.

"I know what you want," Severus assured her, which brought a pleading cry from her as he seized her by her waist to keep her still. Despite his reassurance, Rita reached down between their bodies and grabbed him between the legs, finding the bulge in his trousers. "Rita." Oh, he was chastising her…

She released him, wrapping her fingers instead around the back of his neck to pull his head up to bring him into a rough kiss; he entertained her imprudent lip-lock for only a few seconds and pulled away.

"I told you, didn't I?" Severus said, and although he sounded as if he were disappointed, he was smirking at her. "We've only started and you are"—his fingers gripped the bottom of her chin and angled her head to the side— "trying to provoke me."

She said nothing in response, staring wherever he pointed her head. He was right. She wouldn't know what to do if he were gentle with her. Opting not to fight him, lest he cease his ministrations, Rita let her hand fall away from his neck, and instead she gripped the cushion on which her back lay, tight enough she knew her knuckles would turn white.

"Good girl," he whispered, and Rita—though not looking at him—gave a small smile when she heard his praise her.

This was better… She admitted to herself.

She felt his head descend to her neckline, and his lips softly kiss a trail from the swell of her breasts, down to her stomach, then just above her panty line—Please—

A squeal came out of her as Snape pulled Rita's panties down and she felt his tongue lick her swollen clit. She pinched her eyes shut to revel in the burst of sensation, but they opened wide as she felt two fingers slide inside her wet entrance, pumping in time with her husband's slow coaxing of his tongue.

A stream of curse words left in a breathless whisper, her hips bucking at his slow assault—He didn't seem to mind her met thrusts, for he didn't say anything or look at her as he tasted her on his lips. The pressure began to build, and she wanted to jump off that precipice to fall into what would be a delicious climax—I'm so close, I can feel it…Don't stop…

"Mm-hm," she heard his decline, and it was only a second after that she realized she had uttered the words out loud, for he withdrew his fingers from her. Rita watched, feeling her face hot, and the ache between her legs made her surprisingly sore—and she knew she had to look absolutely feral as Severus pulled her panties down the length of her legs and let them fall beside the couch.

She watched him stand to his feet and his skillful hands unbuttoned his trousers. He let them fall, paying no mind as he discarded his boxers as well—There you are…Rita bit her bottom lip, leering at him unabashed, for he was at solid salute. No clever remarks, no sarcastic comments.

Severus took his place above her, and he kissed her once more—a restrained, gentle lip-lock, whereas Rita wanted to devour him. He parted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he bent down, engulfing her with his weight on the couch. She heard herself say it: "Severus, please."

A quivering mess underneath him, Snape obliged.

His cock slowly slid inside of her, and she uttered a gasp of relief, arching into him; her fingernails dug deep into his back, and her toes curled as he made languorously slow thrusts. He could have felt every muscle inside her walls twitching around him, pulsing hard, to gain the fast and furious friction that she wanted; but—Oh. My. God.

Music to his ears, she answered him with wanton moans, some soft as a kitten's purr, and others as desperate as filthy as a wench—Severus buried his face in her neck, akin to her sweet and sensitive spots. She felt him twitch inside of her, and then his thrusts grew a little faster. Sweaty and writhing beneath him, she could feel that side of him come up to the surface—the part of him that didn't object to her rough sexual play, who wanted to slam her against the wall, to wrap his hand around her throat—

He uttered a low growl, sending shivers down her spine, and she grinned as she felt his fingers slip around her neck. Perhaps she hadn't meant to hear him, or he had let it slip out in his guttural moan as she clenched around him as he brought her to her climax, but Rita bit her lip as she heard him say: "You bring out the absolute worst in me…"

"Show me your worst," Rita hissed at him.

She felt his fingers clench tightly around her throat, and a glimpse of a smirk still shined on her sweating face, and he bit her shoulder, a lustful and dark moan— "Whatever you need, pet."