Warning

This story is not suitable for readers under the age of sixteen. It contains sexual content, including some non-consensual, and may offend some readers. If this subject is offensive to you, please do not read this story.

Chapter 2 – Passion and Pain

Seven o'clock arrived and found Hermione and Snape once again working quietly in the dungeon. She had been apprehensive, at first, but it seemed that her earlier mistake had been forgotten, and he did not mention it again. When thanked for his approval of her project, he shrugged it off. "I would not have done so if I did not feel you were capable of it, Ms. Granger." Strangely, her thanks seemed to make him awkward. Was he so unaccustomed to friendly words that they embarrassed him? She found this a sad thought. He must be lonely if such words made him ill at ease.

They had soon settled into the comfortable routine established on the other evenings, and the work was productive. They were getting through his stores quickly and efficiently, and Hermione was surprised at how well they managed to communicate with so few words. The only ingredients left to review where those kept on the top shelf of the cupboard. Hermione reached up towards them, but was a little too short - the cupboard was for the use of Snape, after all, who was several inches taller. The student stepped aside as the teacher approached to assist her. He reached up, but then paused, his arm outstretched, then without any forewarning, he suddenly turned, reached out to her and pulled her into his arms.

Her mind whirled. What was going on? This was totally unexpected and she could barely believe that it was happening.

His mouth closed fiercely upon hers. In amazement, she tried to push him away, but he was too strong. His kiss lasted only a few moments before he pulled back and held her at arms length. She was too stunned to do anything, but from the expression on his face as he stared, no more stunned than he. His words confirmed it.

"My God! I had no idea I was going to do that," he whispered, and there was something so sincere in his voice that she didn't doubt his words. He stared, startled, into her face for several seconds. But the shock in his eyes melted into want as their eyes locked, and he drew her to him again. Again, she struggled against him, but there was something about his lips that began to stir up unknown feelings in her, and her struggles gradually died as she felt herself returning his kiss.

She'd been kissed before, but this was something different - passionate - demanding. This was no teenage schoolboy - this was a man more than double her age, and with experience of the world, of which she knew so little. Experience with women. He knew what he wanted and knew how to simply reach out and take it. This was made all the more apparent as his hand reached up first to cup her face, then slide down gently to unfasten her robe. She felt a sudden panic rise in her. Kissing him had excited her and had begun to make her body respond in ways she didn't understand, but this was a little too fast. She pulled back.

"No," she whispered, her heart pounding. He pulled her back against him.

"Yes," he murmured, his lips against hers. He was holding her firmly, and continued fumbling with her robe as she began to push away more forcefully. He gripped her tighter, then almost stumbled into the potions cabinet as he dodged her knee.

"Damn!" he said aloud. Then, with a quick flick of his wand, which he drew from his robes, she found herself unable to move her arms. She tried to scream out, but something - either magic or fear - was stopping her. With a swift movement, he lifted her, and paused, looking around - clearly, this situation had not been planned, or he would not have had to think about this - then he began carrying her towards his desk. "Don't struggle, you silly girl, or I'll drop you!"

A sweep of his arm sent papers, including the potions book they had been working on so diligently, scattered across the room, and sent vials smashing onto the floor. He displayed similar disregard for her shirt, as she heard it rip under his rough touch. A few moments, and his hands were exploring her naked body - pinned against the edge of the hard desk. His clothes joined hers on the floor as he shrugged off his own robes and the loose black shirt he wore under them, revealing a surprisingly powerful chest. His skin was warm and smelled, not unpleasantly, of sweat, as their bare skin pressed together. She flinched and tried to turn away as his mouth reached for hers. It seemed to make him pause for a moment, before nuzzling his face into her hair.

"Hermione," he whispered breathlessly into her ear. "I didn't plan on doing this. I had no idea how strongly I felt about you until tonight. I didn't even know I was going to kiss you until I'd done it." He planted gentle kisses around her ear, almost lovingly, as he spoke. "I don't want to hurt you, but I have to have you."

Oh God!

Maybe he though that freeing her arms would demonstrate that he meant what he said about not hurting her, but in her fear, she took the opportunity to scratch at his face. Her fingernails drew blood and he swore. She found her arms pinned again, this time above her head as she was forced onto the desk. With her legs pinned, too, she could barely move. He leaned over her and ran his hands down her body from her shoulders to her thighs.

"You began to like it when we kissed. If you relax, and let me take care of you, I think you'll like it more when we make love." she closed her eyes at his words, and tried to force her breathing to slow.

"This isn't making love, Snape," she whispered, her shaking voice beginning to crack. "This is rape!"

A moment later, she gasped. Without warning, a warm wetness slid between her legs in a touch far more intimate than anything she had experienced before. With a shock, she realized that his tongue was probing her body, and finding parts of her that she had never been fully aware of. With more of a shock, she realized the effect it was having on her body. She was moving beneath his touch, but was she trying to get away or pushing towards him?

His hands reached up to cup her breasts as his tongue worked. He was patient with her - not letting the sensations become too intense too quickly - relaxing her body, then intensifying her reaction once again. She didn't understand her body's intense response, physically or emotionally. Something told her that her instinct to fight him had been right - that what he was doing was wrong - but more and more, her body was telling her that this was so, so right.

The tension was building in her whole body - like she was about to explode. He drew his hands down from her breasts, and slid them under her buttocks, lifting her to him. Then he lifted his head.

"I'll stop now, if you want me to."

Bastard!

How could he do this?

"No!" she had no idea what was happening to her, or what was coming next, but she couldn't let him stop now. "Don't stop!"

"Tell me what you want," he demanded.

"Your tongue. Please!" she begged. His tongue flicked at her, sending a tremor through her body.

"There?" he asked.

"Yes. I want you!" she moaned as his tongue reached for her again.

"Call me Severus," he murmured. A part of her mind was jolted at this reminder of who this man was. Severus Snape. Potions Master. Her teacher. But this was totally irrelevant now.

"Severus!" she whispered, then found herself repeating it more loudly and breathlessly at the touch of his tongue. He brought her, moaning his name, to an incredible and frighteningly intense climax, which left her shaking and weak.

Before she had chance to think about anything, or to recover, though, a new sensation took over, as she felt the weight of his body on top of hers. Still trying to get her breath, she cried out in pain as he forced his way inside her. His hands reached up to grip hers, bound as they were, as his fierce thrusting movements forced all other thoughts out of her mind.

"Severus!" she cried.

"Hermione!" It felt like he was trying to push his way through her - faster and deeper, faster and deeper - until with a long moan and one final penetrating and painful thrust, his body slumped, trembling on hers.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks as he nuzzled his face in her hair, whispering her name. He lay, recovering his breath for a few moments, then turned his head to kiss her neck and cheek. He stopped, suddenly, tasting her tears, and drew back to look at her face. His expression crumpled as he stared at her.

"Oh, my God! What have I done?"