Friday morning crept inevitably upon Hermione, who'd spent a restless four hours, alternately reliving the thrilling memories of the evening and cringing at her own wanton reaction. What must he think of her?

Dressing slowly, she moved sluggishly through her morning, irrationally dreading the looming third period.

Entering the room, she quickly took her seat and kept her eyes focused on her desk. Twenty minutes into the class she realized that it didn't help. The seductive cadence of his baritone voice alone aroused her. Raising her eyes briefly, she was immediately caught in his dark, penetrating gaze, and sat immobilized, feeling her heart pound in her chest.

It took enormous willpower to keep from staring at her the moment she'd entered the room, but that was something he had in abundance. Correction, usually had. Internally cringing, he realized where her nocturnal visits and now his were concerned, all bets were off. He couldn't get enough of her. He couldn't stop thinking of her. He spent the remainder of the early morning lying in his bed wondering if he'd pushed her too far. If he'd finally managed to frighten her. Would she tell him to stop coming? Would she stop sneaking into his room to bring his dreams to life? He felt that, where she was concerned, he was losing control; of his libido, his soul, his heart. The thought instantly staggered him, and he looked sharply at her as she raised her head.

The room hushed as students became aware of the long, heated look passing between the two. Jerking his head away, Severus spun and stalked around his desk. Immediately dropping her gaze, Hermione focused on her textbook.

"Whoa, Hermione." Harry whispered. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," she mumbled.

Eyeing her curiously, he suddenly remembered her odd behavior at the end of their tutoring the other night. Turning narrowed eyes to Snape, he wondered.

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Hermione spent the early evening gathering and brewing another batch of potion. Still shaken by the intense look she'd received in class, she decided that, as exhilarating as the previous night had been, she preferred the feeling of control invisibility gave her. She preferred he not see her blush. She felt too raw. Too exposed.

The moment the potion was done, she took a measure and sat on her bed to wait for its effects. Eleven-thirty … she may still catch him asleep and unsuspecting.

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Severus lay on his bed, studying the ceiling, deeply contemplating his astounding self-revelation. And seriously considering ending their little games. Quite frankly, he was shaken. He thought of all the reasons it should end. She was too young. Even if she had been a few years older … the difference in the ages was too great. He had no room in his life for this type of distraction. She had no clue as to the debts of his depravity, but she would before long. She'd eventually leave him – once her infatuation wore off, and he had no doubt that it would. He didn't think he could watch her leave. He didn't think he could let her.

Closing his eyes, he came to a decision and gritted his teeth against the feelings it unearthed.

Appearing in his room, Hermione saw his sleeping form and smiled softly. Stepping lightly to the bed, she leaned over to press her lips on his, and nearly jumped when his eyes snapped open.

Catching her arms, he pulled her on top of him and kissed her passionately, feeling her melt in his embrace. Groaning, he pushed her over to the side and sat up in bed, quietly struggling with the words he knew he needed to say.

"I see you brewed additional potion." He started off. "I wish you hadn't."

"You'd rather come to me? Ah … so the power of the potion's gotten to you, too." She ran a teasing hand over his chest. "Too bad, so sad." She said before leaning to kiss him.

Immediately pressing her away from him, he frowned. "I wasn't planning on coming to you tonight."

At her long silence, he closed his eyes momentarily, before continuing in a deepened voice. "I think it's time we stopped this."

Shocked, she sat back on her haunches and stared at him, heart pounding. "Now, you want to stop this? NOW? You want to stop this? It's a little late, don't you think?"

Hearing the unaccustomed sarcasm in her voice, he nearly winced. "No. Now is the perfect time."

"Would you care to explain that?"

Raising his eyes to the ceiling, he added, "Hermione, there are things you don't know about me, about my past, about my needs."

Stopping him with a finger on his lips, she spoke softly, "I think I know enough. And I'll decide what I want."

Snatching her wrist, he snapped, "Every time I touch you I feel as if I'm corrupting you."

"Oh, please." Taking a swipe at his shoulder with her free hand, she retorted, "You haven't scared me off yet, have you?"

Reaching up, he found and gripped her chin, and stared unerringly into her eyes. In a voice that sent shivers over her, he slowly murmured, "Maybe I need to."

Raising her chin, she spoke huskily, "Maybe I want you to try."

Feeling the blood rush from his head directly to his groin area, he shut his eyes and fought for control. When she reached over and ran a moist tongue over his lips, he lost it.

Gripping the back of her head, he returned her kiss deeply, feeling both of their heartbeats rapidly increase. Tugging her hand, he stood from the bed, and turning, bent to toss her over his shoulder and carry her around the room as his eyes searched.

Dizzy and almost giddy with excitement, Hermione hung upside down over his back.

Finding a small stool, Severus kicked it over to the edge of the bed. Pulling a long scarf from his dresser, he set her on the stool, facing the bed, and pulled her hands forward to bind her wrists securely. Grasping his wand, he pointed it from the scarf to the ceiling and her hands were immediately raised above her head, causing her to stand on her toes on the stool.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he captured her between his knees and hungrily attacked one perfect breast with his mouth, moving his hand possessively over her body. Trailing one hand between her thighs, he caressed her gently as her breath hitched into a soft pant. He slid off the end of the bed to fall to his knees directly in front of her.

Strong hands firmly grasped her bottom, as he latched onto her with a hot, moist mouth, immediately causing her knees to buckle. Drawing both hands away, he brought them back in a heavy smack, listening to her sharp intake of breath and exhaled low moan.

In a husky whisper, she demanded, "Do it again."

Chuckling softly into her, he continued his frontal assault with relish, while relentlessly smacking her rounded bottom sharply and nearly rhythmically. At her high-pitched cry of release, he clutched her enticingly twitching body close to him and reveled in the feeling of power it gave him to bring her so quickly and easily to her peak.

Moving to his dresser, he swiftly returned with a small jar. Standing directly behind her, he spoke deeply, "This is the scary part." Opening the jar, he rubbed a small amount of the potion around her rear entry, feeling her stiffen in surprise.

Pressing himself firmly against her opening, he spoke softly, "That will help numb you a little." Placing warm lips on her neck, he said, "Press yourself back onto me." And reaching around to cup her from the front, placed two fingers inside of her, and gently rotated his palm against her sensitized flesh.

Moving slowly back, she held her breath as he pressed slowing into her, stretching her as he gained entrance. Keeping his hand pressed directly in front of her, she had only one way to move. Back. Taking it slowly, she felt him reaching deeper into her and shuddered at the feeling of fullness. Feeling literally impaled, she marveled at his control as he stood absolutely still, waiting for her to get used to him.

Licking and nipping her lightly on the neck, he felt her shudder, cry out and stiffen, pulsing tightly around him. Groaning loudly, he bit her shoulder and began moving fiercely in shallow, rapid thrusts, lifting her slightly off of her toes.

She felt another orgasm build before the last had ended and let out a passionate cry as it rolled over her with mind-boggling intensity.

Feeling helpless, controlled and more alive than she'd ever been, Hermione let her head fall back on Severus's shoulder and rode with him to his own shattering release, shuddering once again as her body rocketed with him.

Breathing harshly, he slowly moved away from her and grasping his wand, released her ties, catching her when she collapsed in his arms. Murmuring a quick cleansing spell, he tossed the wand and placed her gently on the bed, moving to lay beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, closing his eyes.

Still fighting for a stable breath, Hermione reveled in the feeling of his arms possessively holding her, and spoke shakily, "You didn't scare me."