To mary: a caning from Snape is not an incentive to write faster :) but thanks for the pleasant scenario: "Oh, Professor, no, you can't cane me! What? Drop my pants? Are you sure? Well, okay . . . you're the boss I guess . . . what? Yes, that's your name tattooed on my ass, so what?"
Disclaimer: Rowling owns the Hogwarts environment and all those who dwell within its walls. Viola and her friends live in a box under my bed, which perfectly explains why my room smells like pot . . . got that mom? Hehe.
Chapter 17
At eleven thirty Sunday night, when the castle was completely still and silent, a little house elf appeared where he shouldn't be. He was quite nervous about being out of bounds, and a little afraid of the dark room.
The hospital wing was empty. The only light was from the moon, draped over the floor in large rectangles from the windows. Ducky had never been in this part of the castle before; his domain had always been in the dungeons and he had not desired to explore further. But the girl in the kitchen needed a favor, and he had taken pity on her. Sure, she had yelled at him once in a classroom, but she was in quite a pathetic state at the moment, and nearly desperate for a small bottle of healing potion.
He had tried to reason with her, of course. Why can't she get it? He had asked. Why not just go make some in Snape's class? Why not just forget it? She had been adamant though, and had refused to budge from her place on the floor for the entire day and so far a good portion of the night. She was making the other house elves quite uneasy. What if her assailant came back looking for her?
None of the servants that inhabited the Kitchens wanted to see that fiend again, and so it was very important that she be able to leave.
Viola had told Ducky precisely where the bottle would be, and with confidence in her instructions he carefully opened Madame Pomfrey's cupboards, mindful of the squeaking hinges. There were rows upon rows of the healing potions, their bottles neatly labeled in Snape's veracious handwriting. With one small vial tucked safely in his hand, Ducky disappeared undetected with a "Pop".
A half hour later, with a freshly healed face and determined to accomplish her task undiscovered, Viola stood in front of an ugly stone gargoyle, trying out passwords. The rumor of Dumbledore's affiliation with candy passwords was losing its credibility to a certain Head Girl. Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Mint Humbugs, Ice Mice, even the esteemed Sherbet Lemon couldn't tempt the sentry to move an inch.
If she wasn't so desperate to consult the sorting hat she might have given up, but she was driven to finish what she had started.
"Jolly Ranchers?" She tried a muggle candy. The gargoyle continued to do what it did best and blocked the doorway incessantly. "Everlasting Gobstoppers?" She wasn't sure if those were real candies, but she had heard about them in a movie when she was little. The Gargoyle blinked at her in a distrusting sort of way, but grudgingly moved aside to reveal the moving staircase that led to Dumbledore's office.
She had been in this room twice before. In her fifth year when she became a prefect, and again at the end of her sixth year when she was informed of her promotion to Head Girl. The good favour that she had received from Dumbledore then was a far cry from what she would receive if caught now. The words Breaking and Entering flashed though her mind, along with things like Detention and Expulsion. She resolved to finish as fast as possible, trying to reassure herself that she had indeed not broken anything to get in, merely discovered that the Headmaster seemingly had spent some time in his youth at Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.
"Well, Viola Rienne." A familiar voice cut through the silence. She swallowed a frightened gasp and whirled around to face whomever had spoken.
The sorting hat sat unmoving on its shelf behind the desk. It was grinning at her with its strange mouth.
With surprisingly steady hands she grabbed the hat and placed it on her head. She almost sat down in Dumbledore's chair, but thought it might be disrespectful and instead sat cross-legged on the floor.
"Still confused eh Vi?" The hat pried into her mind.
"Yes, very." She leaned into the wall defensively, blinded by the oversized rim of the hat.
"What about?"
"You know why!" she shouted in frustration. Her voice echoed somewhat ominously, which seemed strange in the relatively small room. She continued, whispering furiously. "You can see in my brain, you know what's going on."
"Yes, not having a very good year are you?"
"No shit." She pouted. "Why did you do this?"
"I haven't done anything."
"You put me in Slytherin!"
"I did you a favour!" the Sorting Hat sounded angry and defensive. "I never raped you, or beat you up, or destroyed your friendships! I never once cut you or did anything to you. I put you where you needed to be, with someone you need to be with - "
"With Brandon? You fucked up piece of - "
"No, not with that one. That was your own bad decision. I put you next to a man that was capable of being your cure, and you're letting some stupid taboo keep the two of you apart."
"What?" her anger deflated, leaving only mild confusion.
"It's not entirely your fault. He's just as bad."
"Who are you talking about?"
"When I sorted a young Severus Snape, he was fifteen years old. Had he been able to come to Hogwarts when he was eleven, I likely would have put him in Hufflepuff. I could see in his mind that he had once belonged there. But the boy he turned into during his years at Durmstrang begged me to place him in Slytherin."
"What does this have to do with me?"
"Just pay attention." It was annoyed. "Kids get more impatient every year. It's terrible."
"I have to hurry, I don't want to get found in here." She explained.
"Then you should have considered the wards."
"Wards? I didn't feel any wards." That in itself was rather strange, when she thought about it, but she had her suspicions that the hat was just fucking with her.
"There is a silent alarm. You can't feel it, and Dumbledore probably already knows you're here."
"Fine, I'll go as soon as you answer my question."
"No, you'll go now." It spoke matter-of-factly. "And as soon as you get back to your dorm you'll grab your razor blades. You'll hide behind the curtains of your bed and cut yourself, because you just don't know what else to do."
Tears rushed to her eyes and fell down her cheeks at the thought.
"You'll cry, and cut your wrists wide open, and the blood will pour out, hot and horrid, but you'll love every second of it, won't you?" It spoke in a monotone, blatantly, trying not to spare her feelings.
A miserable sob escaped her. "No, no I won't." She moaned as if in agony.
"Yes you will. Brandon will never leave you alone, now you're just his little mudblood whore; his slut. He'll hurt you as often as he can, and he'll never stop. You'll cut your wrists and kill yourself."
Her fists clenched so hard her nails cut into her palms. "Stop." She begged. "I can't do that, I know I won't."
"And why won't you?" it asked urgently, a persistent whisper in her ear.
"Because I can't do it anymore." She cried like a child, purging her body of perturbation for the second time in two days. "It hurts and I can't stand it."
"Because?"
"Because there are so much better things."
"And who taught you that?"
"Severus," she stopped crying, and finally understood a little bit.
The hat dropped its scathing and cruel dialogue, and once again adopted the softer, calmer tone she was used to. "And that, Viola, means that I saved your life. And I sure as hell didn't do it so you could go mess it up again. Understand? Now put me back."
She sighed, left with a lot more questions than answers. A sort of heaviness tightened in her chest, and she was very abruptly having an asthma attack. Gasping, she fumbled in the inner pockets of her robe for the inhaler that she always carried but so rarely used. She pressed the button twice and inhaled profoundly, slamming the hat back onto its shelf with a spurt of Slytherin malignancy. She briefly paused and stood still, breathing deeply as the asthma retreated, then remembered the silent alarm wards. She whirled around, intent on running all the way to the dungeons, using every secret passage she knew of. Sitting in his chair, though, in a magnificent deep green dressing gown and night cap with a glittering silver tassel, was Dumbledore.
A regal study in Slytherin colours, but her heart almost stopped as he pinned her in place with twinkling blue eyes.
She shook a bit, then sunk back down to her seat on the floor, burning with embarrassment. Her Head Girl badge felt heavy in her pocket, and she feared that it might soon be taken from her. She didn't know what to say, she suspected that Dumbledore had heard the entire thing.
He spoke first, as if reading her mind. "Don't worry, Miss Rienne, I did not hear anything before you mentioned the given name of our Potions Master." He didn't sound accusing, but she understood the underlying implications nonetheless.
"Professor Snape has helped me quite a bit Headmaster." she said softly.
"So it seems," he replied, perhaps a little sarcastically. Mordacity sounded so strange coming from him, everyone's eccentric grandpa.
"He's been very civil to me." she said evasively, thinking that if it wasn't a lie it was definitely the worst understatement ever.
"Viola, relax, you are not going to be expelled."
She looked very relieved. He smiled, then had a little chuckle at her expense, eyes twinkling perpetually.
"I once caught Severus at the same thing you were here to do." the smile vanished and the old man looked grave. "Severus had quite a bad time in his seventh year. He confronted the hat in a fit of rage, flying on muggle heroin, half naked and bleeding from some perverted orgy initiated by Lucius Malfoy."
Viola shuddered, giving the headmaster her undivided attention.
"I couldn't deal with him, I was so angry to find him in such a state. I bound his arms tightly to his sides and directed him to the Hospital Wing where he was turned over to the care of the matron. I never said a word about it to him afterward, but I imagine he wanted to ask the hat the same thing you came here to ask. And I have no doubt in my mind that neither of you were given sufficient answers. It is, after all, just a hat."
"It seems to know what it's talking about most of the time . . . now, though, I'm just confused." she confided, mulling over this new knowledge about Snape. She felt like she was about one story away from knowing everything there was to know about this man, and he intrigued her more with every minute that went by.
Dumbledore continued. "Such was my rage, that I did not speak to Severus again for a very long time. I didn't know how to handle him, his problems were so much worse than I had thought. He hid them so well, no one around him could have guessed at the depth of the hole he had thrown himself into."
His tone shocked her. Never had Albus Dumbledore spoken so bitterly and resentfully. "You feel guilty?" she asked, finally guessing the truth. "You think he became a Death Eater because you got mad at him?"
If he found her knowledge of Snape's past suspicious, he never called attention to it. "I was beyond mad at him. That boy was like my son, and because of one event I nearly began to hate him." Dumbledore sounded a bit repulsed. "I turned my back on him, and ignored as he complied to turn his back on me. Three years later, I caught him red handed once again, with a much darker intent than ravaging a hat for answers."
"What? What was it, what did he do?" She felt so desperately eager to know everything, to be able to understand him more than anyone else in the world.
Her ardor at last drew a questionable raised eyebrow from the old man. "Viola, may I ask you exactly what is the nature of you relationship with Professor Severus Snape?" He formed the words slowly and carefully, being specific and precise in his choice of words. For a few seconds, she was one hundred percent positive that he knew everything that had gone between the blistering kiss at Christmas and that morning when she had thought about him and touched herself.
Without thinking, she lied, a complete and total bluff. If Dumbledore knew anything at all she would surely be exposed as a liar and punished, but then again, if he was really only asking and had no idea of their encounters, she would lose Severus his job by revealing the truth. With that logic in mind, she lied to Dumbledore's face.
"Well, he's my Head of House." She shrugged, hoping to whatever Gods dwelled above her that she looked innocent and no blush or twitch would give her away. "But, like I said, he's been very kind to me . . . I'm not . . . fitting in too well . . . and he is such a very interesting person. . ." she trailed off, hoping he would accept her answer. She hoped he might write her fascination off as a girlish crush on Hogwarts' resident "bad boy".
"Alright, Miss Rienne." He sighed, looking rather tired. "One thing I can do, old man or not, is learn from my mistakes." He looked at her earnestly. "I doubt that you'll manage to get yourself tied up with Death Eaters, but I feel I should ease my old soul and give you a choice."
"A choice for what, Headmaster?" she was slightly apprehensive.
"Do you want to return to Hufflepuff?"
She thought about it, for what seemed like a very long time. Would it really change anything? Now that she really contemplated it, she didn't think it would make any difference at all. Surely Brandon wouldn't let something like that keep her away from him; he would find a way to get close to her again, he was smart. The hat was right, he wouldn't stop hurting her now, regardless of what house she lived in. Also, as long as Brandon kept himself in her life, she had no friends. It would make for quite a lot of awkward evenings in the common room, sitting in front of the fire all by herself and watching everyone else enjoy themselves.
The last thought that went through her head, and possibly the thought that made her decision for her, was that the Hufflepuff common room was pretty far away from the dungeons, and so much farther away from Severus Snape. She tried to snuff this idea out immediately, but in the end her choice was made.
"No, Headmaster, I'll stay in Slytherin." She offered no explanation, and he didn't ask for one. He simply nodded and then led her out of his office into the hallway. She wasn't sure where they were going at first, until he brought her to a largely unused corridor on the second floor.
"Perhaps a little solitude would do you good for the time being." He said warmly, patting the top of her head and making her feel pleasantly like a child. He turned and walked away then, probably back to his own sleep, and left Viola in front of the door to the traditional Head Girl's room.
She had politely refused this room at the beginning of the year, thinking that there was nothing wrong with the simpler dormitories. Tonight, though, she was grateful to have this comfortable room all to herself. The instant the door was safely locked, she threw her clothes off and slipped naked under the covers, asleep as soon as her head hit the pillows.
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Severus woke the next morning not quite refreshed, and just a bit apprehensive. Leaving his bedroom to fix some tea (naked, of course.), the stack of essays caught his attention and reminded him of Viola. He had a fair amount of certainty that their conference would not be a pleasant one, and for a second he was tempted to talk to Professor Sprout, her old head of house, and ask her to handle it since she knew the girl better. Plus, to make things even more difficult, he wasn't entirely sure he could maintain a proper role as her teacher, after they had lain together in his bed.
He found it strange, how much he still wanted her, how much he thought about her. And the indignation she would set upon him when she found out what their meeting was going to be about only made him want her more.
He became very frustrated when Viola failed to come to class that morning. He urgently wanted to speak with her, to not waste another second if he didn't have to. He wondered if maybe he had been just a day too late, and she was holed up in the hospital wing with horrific injuries. Brandon Carter was in class on time, though, looking as smug as ever. Severus noticed that he badly wanted to see the kid in a lot of pain if he had done to Viola what Severus thought.
This sort of anxiety was strange for him; he couldn't remember ever worrying so much about anyone before. Usually when a student had a problem, he dealt with it professionally and to the best of his ability. This time, though, it felt so considerably . . . personal.
A few minutes after he began the lesson, the door swung open, nearly giving him a heart attack. He thought it might have been her, but it was a Hufflepuff.
"Miss O'Bradley, how very nice of you to join us at last." He scolded her, almost forgetting to sound like a bastard. "Ten points from Hufflepuff."
"Sir," she said timidly, approaching him instead of taking her seat. "The Headmaster kept me." She handed him a folded piece of parchment. "He said that Viola is to be excused today."
Snape glanced quickly at the note, which confirmed her statement. It also mentioned that she would no longer be sleeping in the Slytherin Dormitory. This upset him, and he wasn't sure why.
Since there was no longer any reason to hold off, he returned their essays, giving out random criticisms to the Hufflepuffs and rare praise to some of his Slytherins. Viola's essay was at the bottom of the pile, bearing the note that he had written before. It was still important that he speak to her, that night if possible, so he stalked between desks and stood before Gwendolen.
"Miss O'Bradley, do you happen to know where Miss Rienne is currently dwelling?"
"Yes, Professor." She said very quietly, frowning slightly at the grade on her essay. She had written about hallucinogenic ingredients being used in potions to create intense, artificial drugs with no harmful side effects. He thought it was clever, but gave her a four. "She's moved to the Head Girl's room." He noticed that she kept her voice as low as possible, and that her eyes flickered for a second. He subtly followed her gaze and saw that Brandon Carter was watching, trying to overhear. The lordly look on the boy's face made Severus so unexplainably irate.
"Could you please see that she gets this?" he gave Gwen her friend's essay. "And any other homework I give today? She needs to stay caught up."
"Perhaps I should, Professor." Carter spoke up in a strangely dark tone. "I am her boyfriend."
Now it was Gwendolen's turn to look furious. There was definitely something going on; Severus had a feeling that Brandon was trying to find out where she was.
"I'm sure Miss O'Bradley can manage, Carter, get back to work." Snape said coldly, handing her the paper slowly and deliberately. "Thank you, Gwendolen." He said to her. Snape rarely called students by there first names, but Gwen was more shocked by what he did next. Plucking her quill out of her hand, he changed the mark on her paper from a four to an eight, and whispered "Twenty points to Hufflepuff, for your inconvenience."
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Six o clock came and went. Snape had not seen her at lunch or dinner, and it was becoming quite clear that she would not be attending their appointment.
That girl has some balls, Severus fumed. Here he was, going quite out of his way to help her, and she had the nerve to just not show up. No one had ever blown off a detention from Severus Snape.
He was unused to helping people, and to have his sincere efforts thwarted frustrated him. Resolutely, he made his angry way up to the Head Girl's room, robes flying behind him and students scrambling to get out of his way.
He had intended to pound loudly on the door and get her into a panic, maybe even take points off Slytherin and give her a few horrid detentions, just to teach her to appreciate his efforts a little. These were his intentions, but they faded and gave way to dread when he finally got to knock on the door.
His first thunderous whack caused the door to swing open on its own, quickly and easily. For some reason, it had been left ajar.
The room was still, dark, and entirely silent. She must be in here, he thought, because she's not dumb enough to leave without even closing her door. Cautiously, with a suspicion that he shouldn't do what he was doing, he entered the room and shut the door behind him. Her room was on the wrong side of the castle to get any sunlight so late in the day, and Severus nearly tripped on the edge of a rug on the floor with not so much as a flickering candle to guide him. He cursed under his breath and looked up sharply as a tiny gasp sounded from under the covers on the bed.
Smirking, and not even bothering to make light, he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He felt her squirm as he sat down, and pulled the covers down to reveal a pair of nervous brown eyes, peeking out from behind a mop of light hair.
It took her a second to focus her eyes, and he observed they suddenly looked relieved.
"Oh, it's you," she said it in a way that suggested that she thought it might have been someone else. "For a second I thought I was dreaming."
"Do I often appear in your dreams, Miss Rienne?" Sarcastic, but low and seductive at the same time. She opted to blush instead of answer, while he continued to sit and wait. Inwardly she grinned, wondering if he was aware that she was naked under the quilt. Silence stretched.
"You missed our appointment." He said at last.
"I wasn't aware we had one."
"I sent your friend up here with your homework, did you not receive it?"
"Oh, yes, Gwenny came. I didn't look at it though, I only got up to let her in then I went back to bed." She clutched the blankets up to her chin. "She must have left the door open."
"So it would seem."
More soundlessness. He felt unsure of himself, almost going mad as her eyes dragged over him. She saw him watching her. Watching her watch him. It was funny to Viola, and she giggled a bit, muffled by the quilt covering half her face.
"What's funny?" He asked, indignant.
"You," she mumbled, still smiling. The blankets smothered her answer so that all he heard was an indistinct whisper.
Without thinking, he grabbed the blankets again and pulled. "I can't hear you with those damn things covering your face . . ." he trailed off, having pulled quite a bit too hard.
Good gods. Whatever happened to the days when girls wore huge flannel pajamas and wool nightgowns? Where was he when they started sleeping naked? The quilt now covered nothing higher than her navel, and he found himself looking on in amazement at her small, round breasts. Her creamy white skin seemed to glow in the darkness, accentuating little pink nipples that tightened as the chill of the room hit them.
She continued to watch him, not attempting to cover up. Seconds ticked by and neither of them made a move to do anything. Severus couldn't stand it anymore. He was hard and burning for her, but he couldn't touch her. It would be wrong in every sense of the word. He would go strait to Professor Sprout and inform her that her old student needed assistance with an abusive relationship. He would be impartial and professional, and he would stop staring at those lovely little handfuls of sweet young flesh . . .
It took every bit of will power in his body, but he got one hand working and attempted to cover her back up with the quilt. She stopped him though, damn her for foiling him again. She took his wrist in her hands, which were shaking furiously, betraying trepidation that was not evident in her face. Slowly, not taking her eyes off his, she brought his hand to her face and kissed his palm gently, before placing it directly over her breast.
It was too much. Damn her a hundred times, but there was no way he could stop. He squeezed her breast firmly and bent down to take her nipple into his mouth. His hair draped over her skin and made her gasp, arching slightly off the bed, leaning into his touch.
He circled her nipple with his tongue and bit sharply on its peak. She writhed as if in pain, but her hand wove through his hair and held him in place, as if afraid his administrations would suddenly stop. His mouth dragged over her collarbone and up to her throat, breathing hard and pyretic breaths into her pulse. He propped himself up on his elbows, hovering for a second over her to watch her face. She was flushed and panting, her lips red and parted, begging to be kissed.
He tried to be gentle and soft, but she was driving him mad. He ravaged her mouth and sucked on her lower lip, kissing her hard with all the hunger he had been struggling with for far too long. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck and her breasts pressed onto his chest. He felt her legs moving, bumping him with her knees, and realized that she was trying to kick the blankets off herself. He pulled back from her and swung the covers nearly completely off the bed.
His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he bent to unlace his boots. She watched him with a spark of humour in her eyes as he fumbled to get the cumbersome things off as fast as possible. She felt no embarrassment in front of him, completely exposed. She loved the way he looked at her, as if she were something so irresistible and beautiful. The instant the boots hit the floor she grabbed him by the front of his robes and pulled him down to her again. He knelt between her legs and she sat up to reach him. He cupped her face with both hands and kissed her again, less demanding this time but no less captivating. He slid his tongue over hers, tasting her and memorizing her in affectionate detail.
He was so absorbed in their kiss that he didn't even notice her hands had moved until he felt them on his bare skin. She had undone the clasp of his robes and half the buttons on his shirt, giving her access to his heated flesh. Her hands were cold and he tensed for a second, biting back a groan.
"Did I do something wrong?" She looked worried and so innocent. He shook his head and gave her a reassuring half smile, shucking off his robes and shirt. He would have loved to discard his pants as well, given the amount that they had shrunk, but the last thing he wanted to do was intimidate her with his . . . Well, he wasn't one to brag about his anatomy.
She was hesitant, so he was patient. Slowly she touched him again, sort of marveling at the sequence of events that had led to this sensational conclusion. She started with his face, delicate fingers sweeping over his cheekbones and the graceful curve of his lips. She felt the muscles in his shoulders and down his arms, shivering when she felt how strong he must be. She held his left arm a little longer and looked at the Dark Mark, not bothering to disguise what she was doing. He allowed her to consider the mark, not feeling the least bit shameful of it in her presence.
She let go of his arm and turned her attention to his chest. It was becoming too difficult to stay still, and Severus thought he might just come in his pants like a fifth year if she kept it up. He wasn't used to being touched so softly. It was as if she was trying to study him instead of arouse him; the feeling was something new and so he let her continue, seeing her get more confident every time she drew a response out of him. She kissed his collarbone and sucked lightly on his neck, inching her fingertips down his stomach. The muscles of his abdomen clenched in turn as her nails pulled over them. By the time she touched the waistband of his trousers he was shaking with lust, barely holding himself back.
Unable to stop, his teeth came down sharply below her ear. She gasped, stiffened, and he thought that he had hurt her. Then she moaned and pressed herself solidly into his body, feeling the hard length of him through his pants.
"Do you want me to be rough with you?" He breathed in her ear, surprised by her unbridle reaction.
"You feel so good, Severus . . ." she fumbled with his buttons, undoing his trousers and freeing his erection. "Just don't hurt me . . ." she grasped his erection in her small hands, stroking as hard as she dared without causing him pain. "This is my first time." She admitted.
"I won't hurt you," he assured her, cupping her bottom with both hands, his fingers straying toward her center. He spoke into the curve of her neck, sucking and biting, thrusting gently into her hand as she caressed him with inexperience, but confidence. "Gods, Viola, I'm aching for you." His voice was a low purr, deep in his chest that reverberated into her core, melting her until she too felt an ache deep inside her body.
He wrenched her hand from his rigid manhood, gripped her shoulders and placed her back down with her head resting comfortably on a pillow. He freed himself of his trousers and boxers and kissed her abdomen, inching tortuously downward past her naval. His tongue flicked out and just barely touched her opening. She flinched and tried to close her legs, put he held her hips firmly in place with strong hands.
"Let me . . . " he pleaded insidiously, raising a crafty eyebrow at her from his place between her legs. "Please, I want to . . ." she made no more protest, she couldn't, not with that man doing THAT to her. His scathing tongue, so talented when it came to terrorizing students, was so much more gifted when it came to the more intimate details of the female body. She though that he was devouring her, and a tightness that started in the pit of her stomach was spreading out, filling her with nearly unbearable, wonderful tension. He closed his lips around the swollen, red button that was her clitoris, and sucked on it lightly. She bit down on the back of her hand, muffling a scream and arching off the bed. He reveled in her ecstacy, he knew that she was close and that it was him that was doing it. He felt a surge of power and bit down on her inner thigh, removing a hand from her hip and applying his elegant fingers to the aid of his mouth.
Severus sank two long digits into her wet heat and curled them upwards, searching for that spot that would make her cry out in earnest.
"Gods, Severus, I'm . . . I'm going to . . ." She panted and writhed, unable to articulate any further than muted moans and whimpers.
His cock throbbed and he applied more pressure to the inside of her with his skilled hands. His mouth circled her clit and he tugged lightly with his teeth. "Yes, Viola, I want to make you come . . ."
Her muscles clamped down around his fingers and she screamed, gripping white sheets in whiter knuckles. Her thighs were hard and they quivered as she tried to keep still, her breasts heaving as she sucked in long breaths. All the air had left her body, leaving her buzzing and full of a feeling of euphoria.
A blush spread over her cheeks and down to color her breasts a darker pink. Her nipples were rigid and distended and tears were streaking from her eyes and into her hair.
He reared over her and knelt again between her legs, gripping her hips soundly. "Do you want this?" he breathed.
She couldn't answer, only nod forcefully and shift her pelvis upwards, as if reaching to sheath the dusky length of his engorged member. In an instant he was inside her, throwing his head back and groaning at the tightness of her. Viola felt a shock of pain, Severus was so much bigger than Brandon, but it quickly dissipated when he began to move inside her, thrusting hard and deep, with long, deliberate motions. She watched the muscles on his stomach clench and become more defined each time he drove into her.
She wanted more of him, to feel him slamming inside her forever. This was sublime. She crossed her legs around his waist and he took the hint and fucked her harder. They went on like this, sweating and mingling and moving together until time blurred and ceased to be, and they indulged in the pleasure that the other was capable of offering.
Perhaps minutes, or even hours later, Viola wasn't sure, he let go of her hips and her bottom hit the sheets. As fast as he could manage, he was inside her again, stretched overtop of her with her fingers entwined in his above her head. He was heavy, but she hardly cared. The whole bed seemed to move from the power of his thrusts, and before she could even feel it coming she was in the throes of a second climax. She tightened around his shaft, and he silenced her before she could scream again with a probing, scorching kiss as he too came hard, pushing into her one last time as he emptied himself with a feral groan of satisfaction.
He looked at her, and noticed for the millionth time that she was beautiful. He kissed her again.
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I hope you all enjoyed that. I would really appreciate feedback on this, more than usual, cause this was my first try with smut. I hope it was satisfactory and to your tastes.
Love you all
Jeni
XOXOXOX