Chapter Twenty-Five: A Belated Gift
Severus stared at the flames through which Malfoy had recently disappeared. He had given them an unbelievable amount of information, much more than Severus had dared to hope, and left with carefully-worded prevarication in its place. They now knew more than they could've ever gained through the usual channels, and would have more delivered to them from the right hand, himself - willingly, cheerfully, even. Of course, revealing this information to Albus would mean having to explain how he'd extracted it. The headmaster would not be pleased. For all of his wonderful ways, Albus was notoriously noble and despised Snape's nastier means of persuasion.
There was almost no way to pass this wealth of information along without explaining that he'd had to use every Unforgivable curse for which they had a law... several times over. Lucius was an unbelievably strong wizard, resilient beyond almost all measure. It had been a hellish battle to break his will enough to get anything valuable from him, an even worse struggle to alter his perception of Severus and Emily. But, at long last, he had triumphed and Lucius had been sent off to unknowingly harvest more information for the Order.
It was at that moment that Snape became truly aware of Emily for the first time since he had left her to prepare for Malfoy's coming. Presently, she was staring at him as he stared at the flames - pensively, seeming to look not at him, but beyond him. He shifted only his eyes to view her out of the very edge of his vision, and she turned away, a vivid blush on her fair cheek.
"I- It's getting late," she stammered. "We should go now if we want to catch Albus awake," she said to the wall.
"Albus?" he questioned blankly, then shook his head, turning upon his heel to face her as a dark chuckle escaped him. She shivered and it pleased him immensely.
Bringing his hand to her cheek, he found that her skin was hot to the touch.
"Foolish, foolish girl," he whispered, causing her green eyes to open wide in fear. Ah, what a beautiful sight. Her heart was beating faster, the pulse moving the skin at her throat - a tempting invitation.
In one swift movement, he'd grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her through the wall into his own chambers. A few terse commands sealed the room and warded the hearth against prying eyes.
She backed up a step as he turned back to her, allowing a wicked gleam to set his eyes alight. He waited for her hand to inevitably reach for the wand which was not there, then struck, swooping down on her with a kiss that bordered on savagery, biting at her plump, red lips when they did not open of their own accord. Her first reaction was shock, but all too soon, she relented, eagerly giving back as much as she received. After a few breathless moments, he broke away.
"For twenty years, I have wanted you, Emily," he murmured into her parted lips. "Albus can bloody wait."
True to his word, he returned his attentions to her mouth - more gently, this time, reminding himself sternly that, in this one respect at least, she was an innocent. He'd be well served to take his time. This only happened once. Sex he'd had, plenty of it, but this was sacred, this sharing of her body, giving to him what she could give to only one man. He planned to treat it with the dignity such a gift warranted.
He began with a gentleness he had not known he possessed, a tiny scattering of kisses across her lovely face, down the bridge of her nose as she giggled lightly, the barest taste of her mouth as he passed it by, mapping her features several times over before returning to her mouth. And, it was sweet, so sweet, the taste of her as he allowed the tiny kisses to flow together, to lengthen, deepen naturally, as he breathed deep the unique scent that was Emily; unique only because it was different every day, some new oil or potion or perfume or a combination of several. It was never the same, as varied as everything else in her life. Tonight, she smelled of amber oil and something strange, exotic, like coconut, but warmer.
Sliding his cheek down hers, he nuzzled at her neck, reveling in the silken feel of her skin, the soft whispers of delight as he explored her. The eager spread of strong fingers began to build his awareness of her as she boldly ran her hands down his back, around his waist and up his chest, beginning to loosen his shirt now with inexpert and halting movements. He did nothing to assist, indeed he enjoyed her frustration as she worked first the top button of his waistcoat, then the next, then the next, finally whimpering her frustration into his mouth as he continued his eternity of leisurely kisses.
This time, he was more tender, coaxing her mouth to open with a subtle tasting of her lips with his tongue. She complied willingly, eagerly, not only allowing, but deepening the kiss with a desperate moan and a ferocity that nearly matched his own previously excessive enthusiasm. Abruptly, he broke away, cupping her face in his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb.
"Slowly, Emily," he whispered, smoothing a hand through her hair as if soothing a pet. "Slowly. Let me love you this first time."
Swallowing thickly, she nodded, gazing into his eyes with something akin to fear that gave him pause.
He drew away, stepping back and releasing her immediately.
As much as he wanted her, he had to be absolutely positive.
"Emily, if you are uncertain..."
He never finished, stopped cold by a red-haired projectile hurtling herself into his arms and kissing him with abandon.
"No. I'm not. I want you, Sev," she managed to mumble between kisses. "I need you. Please, please, don't stop this time."
It was more than enough surety and he returned to his previous gestures with much less calm than before, her raw passion having greatly perturbed his composure. Now, his mouth took hers with breathless and wanton abandon, no longer cautious as he lost himself in the taste of her, the sound of her pleading whimpers and moans as he began to unfasten her robes, sliding them over her shoulders and down her arms with precision learned years ago in the arms of women whose names were forgotten the day after.
Emily had returned her attentions to his waistcoat and finally managed to free him of it. It hit the floor with a rush of thick fabric that snapped him back into his senses.
He slowed once more, trying desperately to regain some semblance of composure, gently sliding her robes down over softly-curving hips as he knelt before her, nuzzling the silken warmth of her belly. Tender hands buried themselves in his hair. Distantly, he was aware of her calling his name, but his attentions were fading, now, lost to him as composure gave way to passion and thought surrendered to instinct.
Somehow they made it to the bed in a tumble of swiftly-lost fabric and knelt together upon the neatly-turned-down bedclothes. In an almost angry flurry of activity, she divested him of the last stitch of his armor, the unbuttoned shirt that still hung loosely from his shoulders, and brought her mouth to the newly-bared flesh pulling a hungry groan from his throat as he slipped his hands into her mane of hair reminding himself to be gentle, resisting the urge to tear at it, to snatch her down by her own locks and take what he had wanted for years incalculable.
Damn this sense of propriety, this inevitable protectiveness! It would surely be the death of him as his blood quickened and his instincts screamed at him to join his body with hers. Carefully, he composed himself and allowed her to take her time, kneading his skin with slow-moving hands, pressing agonizing, endless kisses over his chest and shoulders, stopping occasionally to trace with her tongue the various scars she encountered. No need to ask where they had come from. She knew, for she bore a few of her own.
The innocent flick of a tongue as her mouth closed over his nipple was his undoing. Unable to take a moment more, he threw her to the bed with a growl and covered her body with his own, nipping at her throat as lightly as he could manage with what little control he still possessed. Desperately, she clung to him as he moved to her shoulder, then closed his mouth over her breast, drawing a cry from her that shook him to his core.
She was nervous, he could tell, perhaps even frightened, shivering beneath him, her hands shaking as they moved over his skin. How indescribably precious, the way her breath hitched in her throat as he pressed his arousal into her thigh. Gods, she was more than merely technically pure, she was utterly without experience and he found himself slowing as he took advantage of her suddenly vulnerable mind to creep inside and unearth what she was thinking.
The first touch of his mind to hers was almost enough to send him over the edge, the raw passion of which she was capable he'd almost forgotten. It was so odd to enter a mind so utterly different from his own, especially having so recently been in Malfoy's which was hauntingly similar. Where Severus thought in numbers and measurements, words and calculations, Emily thought in pictures and colors and unfettered emotions. Presently, her mind was such a jumble of whispers and moans and tumbling flashes of his face and body that it was impossible to read. Little bits of childhood conversations with roommates who had little more experience than she telling her how painful and horrid the first time would be, snippets of advice about trying to relax to make it easier, her own terror at being unable to do so as he drove her closer and closer to the edge even now, before he'd even begun to love her.
It was too much. He slipped out of her jumbled thoughts as quickly and quietly as he'd entered and concentrated instead on her pleasure. If she was that afraid, then he'd simply have to take her mind off of the tension, he thought with a wicked gin as he slid the rest of her underpinnings down her body and somewhere over the side of the bed, then rose up to his hands and knees to study her.
He began with her face and saw that she was flushed, cheeks stained vivid red as if she'd been engaged in some vigorous exercise. The flush continued down her throat and ended just above her voluptuous breasts whose peaks had hardened into points from his recent attentions. Her waist was nipped in, but not tiny, her belly softly rounded as a woman's should be and her hips, which his hand now lightly caressed, were full and ripe.
"Sev?" The query was whispered, breathless, slightly afraid. He smirked. If she feared that he would stop now, then she had no idea what he was feeling.
He gave a soft smile, the one he reserved only for her.
"You are beautiful, Emily," he purred, watching as the color in her cheeks deepened even more and she turned her gaze to the side, shyly.
Precious.
His mouth descended once more, this time to her belly, teasing the silken flesh there with tiny swipes of his tongue, then moved lower to nip at the flesh of her thighs. She cursed, and he chuckled, highly amused, even in his heightened state of arousal at her use of profanity to express any intense emotion. Long he remained there, suckling and kneading at the soft flesh of her inner thigh as she whimpered and pleaded, desperate for something she hadn't the experience to even name.
And again he reminded himself to be cautious with her, to give her as much pleasure as possible before taking his own, to allay her fears or at least bury them beneath so much passion that she became immune. Then, he would feel free to take her.
With this in mind, he parted her legs further and brought his mouth, already watering at the thought of tasting her, to her sex. And, gods, her reaction was wonderful, a sharp hiss of breath, a sweet cry of his name, and then mindless whimpers of pleasure as he plunged his tongue inside her then smoothed it gently along her lips, just shy of the tiny point that most needed his attentions.
A whimper of protest from her as her fists tangled in the bedclothes.
How sweet.
Slowly, very slowly, he slid a finger inside her, acclimating her to his touch, insinuating what was to come. And, merely for his own curiosity, coming to rest at the barrier of her virginity. She stiffened as he withdrew and joined the first finger with another, stretching her slowly as his mouth continued its attentions, fascinated with the varied reactions, etching them in his mind for future reference. Here she reacted very little, here she trembled violently, a slight movement of his mouth just here and she cried out... Ah, now that was a lovely sound. It enflamed him, forced him to stop a moment and master himself once more. He would not last much longer, he knew. What little reason and civility that remained was quickly fading with the slick feel of her on his tongue. Her body was ready, more than ready for him. Her mind may need a bit more coaxing. If she was tense when he entered her...
Gods, please don't let me hurt her.
Her breath was coming more quickly now, hitching in her throat each time his tongue lightly passed over the point of her desire causing a white-hot flame to race through his veins, and he finally stopped his teasing, giving her what she had been crying out for. Not because he'd tired of her pleas, but because he simply couldn't wait any longer.
It was over quickly, unbelievably quickly. Indeed he had barely begun when her body froze, then shuddered beneath him as she cried out in ecstasy. There he remained, sliding his tongue lightly over her body, drawing out her climax for as long as it pleased her, until he could take no more.
She seemed to hesitate when he returned his mouth to hers, still covered with her own need, but groaned when his tongue snaked inside her mouth, sharing the taste of her desire with her. She took it eagerly, sucking lightly, as he filled her mouth with a sound that was lamentably close to a desperate whimper. The little shame he felt at that disappeared entirely when he settled into the cradle of her thighs and brought his arousal to her slippery entrance... and she froze.
He pulled away with a sigh, reminding himself that this was to be expected, that patience was needed, but gods if she changed her mind now he may find himself guilty of a crime neither of them would ever forgive. He searched her eyes carefully, silently asking for a sign.
She looked at him as if he were a wolf about to leap... then smiled, swallowing nervously. The shift of her hips which brought him slipping inside her passage caught him completely off-guard and was nearly his ruin. His body had stopped, though, before he could enter completely. With one long, sharp thrust, he changed that, and the choked cry that it tore from her was as startling as it was beguiling.
He stopped. Took a long, deep breath as his eyes searched hers. A shaking hand came to rest on his face, tracing the line of his cheek, then falling to his mouth. She smiled, a warm, contented smile that sent a shiver through his body as suddenly he realized that this was something he'd never done before; lay with a woman so tenderly with more concern for her pleasure than his own, giving a silent oath that he would be there when she woke... and each morning thereafter. Whether he enjoyed the admission or not, he loved her, and belonged to her just as surely as she belonged to him.
With a smile, he brushed a kiss over her lips, then sealed his mouth over hers completely, swallowing her soft cries as he began to move inside her, pulling away slowly only to enter again, a gentle rhythm intended to soothe them both. He continued at this agonizingly slow pace for a long while, allowing her to become accustomed to the size of him, the feel of his body moving inside her own, finally pulling away to watch her face as her passage began to tighten.
She was close once more, much to his delight, and he braced his body to move a hand between them and hasten her pleasure. Again she responded more quickly than he thought possible, writhing against him as he moved more quickly within her, unable to continue this languid measure as the fire at the center of his body began to spread.
As his strokes quickened, her own climax neared and he watched in fascination as she gasped and cried out, eyes squeezed tightly as her body convulsed wildly around his. She was still crying his name when the intense heat grew to the point at which he could no longer contain it and he exploded within her, burying his face in her hair as he spilled his seed deep within her body.
When his thoughts again became coherent many moments later, he was still moving - slowly, gently as she rocked against him, unable, it seemed, to stop the endless shivers that ran through her body. Tenderly, he smoothed a few wet strands of hair from her cheek, and gave her a secretive smile as he whispered her name, sliding carefully out of her. She whined in protest, then gave the tiniest chuckle as he searched her eyes with unguarded concern.
"Are you hurt?" he whispered.
The giggle turned into a quiet laugh as she ran a hand languidly through his hair. "That is the last thing I am at present, Severus Snape." She turned to face him, snuggling closer when his arm wrapped around her waist. "I never dared to imagine..." She halted, smiled. "That was..." A hearty laugh shook her shoulders as he fell to his back with a groan and she curled into his arms. "Ah, sweet love, I shall have to feed your considerable ego in the morning. I fear you've rendered me quite speechless."
He chuckled lightly, unable to maintain his somber sense of reverence in the face of her merriment.
"At long last," was his parting shot before closing his eyes, drifting off to the sparkling sound of her laughter.
Author's note: My personal nightmare of responsibility is finally over and I thank all of you for being so very patient with me. Hugs to all of you! I couldn't do this without you.
Elessar Evenstar: Yes, You were right. You know me too damn well. I can't kill my beloved Severus. Sorry about the cold. I guess having you sneeze at the chapter is better than hearing that you printed it out and blew your nose on it. You didn't, did you? Wait a sec. Don't answer that. My self esteem is low enough. Wow! Where would I be without compliments like that one? I would likely pack it up and never write again. I'm not very self-actualized. I require love (in the form of positive reviews) to continue working. So, thanks for yours.
Asha Ice: You are an evil little thing, but I can appreciate that. Thanks for chiming in.
Oya: Nah. I can't kill Severus. I love him too much. Thanks for not being mad.
Sesshomaru's Angel: Sorry, but I had to hurt Lucius a little bit to get the info out of him. He's an awfully stubborn man. But, he's okay now, so no worries. Happy belated Halloween to you as well.
Laura: Wow. When I first started to read your review for chapter 23, I was devastated. I thought I'd really upset you. I'm relieved that wasn't the case, and flattered beyond words that you read the whole damn story (or, what I have so far) in one day. That'll keep me writing! And, no, we're not at the end, not even terribly close. So, I hope to hear more from you in the future. In the meantime, have a seat, grab a muffin or cookie and cup of tea and relax. We're all friends, here! Love you, too. Your reviews were a spot of sunshine on a rainy day.
Teenage Zombie: Thanks. I'm relieved that you thought it was sweet because I was rather disappointed in it. I just couldn't seem to get it to feel right. What's important, though, is that you liked it. That makes the four or five times I rewrote it seem paltry. My obligations have slowed quite a bit, thank goodness. Now, I can concentrate on my one great love. This!
Lady Jenilyn: Okay, first of all, allow me to swear to you that I am headed over to review your story, like ASA - frickin' - P. I also have a half-finished letter on its way because you simply have to hear about the Halloween party from Hell. Sorry about the delay. I've been a lazy bum resting up from last week. I'm so ashamed! As to your review, I'm glad he's not dead, as well. But, be honest. You knew I couldn't kill him, didn't you? You were just humoring me. That's so sweet! I swear that Emily's character is being sharpened, not only by this chapter but by events to come as well. She's almost finished being such a flake, but I have to put her through a few more sessions in the kiln before she's properly finished. Remus is coming back. Soon, I promise. I agree about the last few chapters in Leda being too quick, but I was so relived at the ending that I almost couldn't manage to find fault. In retrospect, my only real disappointment was her love scenes. I like them long and juicy and Corriander likes to leave things to the imagination. Sigh. Oh, well. There's always Lady Malfoy's work. Now, that's some passionate writing! It makes my toes curl.
Queen of the Faeries: I'm glad that the flashback was understandable. I wanted to, of course, give the impression that she'd killed him in the beginning, but didn't wish to leave her confession to the imagination and there was only one way to manage that. I'm flattered that you liked the ending scene and so relieved to hear that so many of you approved because the dialog gave me fits! I don't think I've ever had that much trouble with a scene. I wasn't really even that pleased with the end result, but I'm glad that it wound up being at least sweet. I hope that this chapter was better. If it wasn't, don't tell me. Okay, do tell me because it's the kind of thing I need to know... but tell me gently. I'm very sensitive.
Captain Oblivious!: Welcome home! Glad to have you back! Oh, I'm so relieved about your paper. I know that must've helped to take the pressure off. Honestly, professors can be so harsh sometimes! Just for the record, I knew you knew she didn't do it. (Escaped sticks out tongue and blows raspberry) How's that for mature? Hey, if you're going to compile a soundtrack, let me know! I love music. It was actually my major for a time.
1 lonelyangel: Oh, I hate to think I almost made you cry! Wait, no I don't. I love the fact that I almost made you cry. It means the story isn't completely boring. Yay for me! I almost made the lonely angel cry! Woo hoo! Okay. Sorry. I'll stop now. Thank you for the compliments on my writing style. They keep me writing. The Halloween costumes were completed. They were a Priest and Nun, for the Loaf (my beloved Beta reader, best friend, and hetero life mate) and me, respectively. I am a painter, but allow me to qualify that by asserting that I am a lousy painter! I would never insult the name of art by posting my work on the net, but thanks for asking. I feel arrogant enough just posting my writing, and still can't believe the response it gets!
bluebird161221: Wow! You read my story in a day? Several times?! I'm astounded that I could hold your attention - and very, very flattered. You're the second reviewer I've had to do that just with this last post, and I don't quite know what to say. And, please don't send the ferrets after me! I raised two ferrets from infancy to death and know how riled up they can get. In fact, my youngest, Tasselhoff, once chased a maintenance man out of our apartment... literally! So, I'll be good. I'll update like a madwoman, just don't turn the ferrets loose on me! But... can I play with them for just a little while? I miss my babies so much!
Quietude: It does seem quite the relief that Severus is control, doesn't it? Honestly, there's nothing much that he can't handle. Things will be easier now, I hope. You are the only one to say what I actually felt about the dialog between them at the end. It did feel sappy, and no matter how many times I rewrote it, I just couldn't seem to clean the sap off! It was bloody stuck to the scene itself! Very irritating! My breather has come and now I am back to doing what I love best. Thanks for caring.
sev lover: Thanks for the good word.