His lips were warm and soft, a teasing brush that forced her pulse into riot. Her hands. What did she do with her hands? Snape –damn it, if he was kissing her, he was Severus— wasn't touching her. Could she touch him? Gods, she wanted to. To cling to his familiar frock coat, twist her fingers into its softness—
"Hermione? Less thinking, if you please?"
"I…" She wet her lips and stared up at him. The burst of bravado from only a moment before had faded, lost in the darkness of his eyes, his touch, his…experience. "I don't know what to do."
Severus' brows drew together, deepening the familiar line. Her fingers itched to trace that too. She saw a response forming from his look, from the particular parting of his mouth and a surge of panic pushed up from her chest. She didn't want him belittling her. She was supposed to be perfect for him. It was hardly her fault she lacked a more physical education…
"Ron and I didn't. That much. I haven't…" His kisses and sweaty, grabby hands had been enough. She couldn't stop the little shudder that twitched across her shoulders. "I didn't want to."
She straightened herself under his intense, black stare, expecting something snide, something cutting…but he simply pushed a loose strand of hair back from her face. He drew his finger down from her temple to her jaw. "Are you untouched by him, Hermione?"
His voice was a velvet rumble and its darkness a delicious slide into her flesh. She wanted to say 'Yes', she almost did…but then certain memories kicked in. "Well, mostly."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Mostly?"
She winced. Why did she feel as if she were betraying a man who'd barely more than brushed his lips across hers?
"Hermione…" Her name was little more than a whisper. His lips teased hers again, a tantalising taste of him and the heat of mouth. "I come to you with experience. I'm not going to be a…git and expect you to be a virgin."
The quick turn of her grin dropped away. "Oh, but I am that." Her smile jumped again. "Ron…" She made grabby hands in the air. "He's another Snarfalump plant." Her hands dropped and heat burned in her face as he simply stared at her. "Severus?"
His fingers threaded into the wild tangle of her hair, lifting her face as his dipped to hers. Another kiss, a slow tasting before the heat of his tongue licked the seam of her lips. "I should be a good man," he murmured, even as he stepped closer, the warmth of his lean frame washing over her. He grazed her bottom lip with his teeth. "I should step back, allow you life and experience before I claim what is mine."
Hermione clutched at his coat as that last word seared through her, catching her breath and her heart. Like him, she should fight it. She should. She wasn't a possession…but dear gods, those words said in that voice? "Yours." It was the only thing she could gasp, her brain having lost all higher function. "Definitely yours."
"Yes, you are, aren't you?" His smile was wicked. "And I have never been a good man."
His hand slid down her back, drawing her closer and with a low groan, his mouth took hers, sure and deep. Devouring her.
Hermione clung to him. His heat, his scent wrapped around her, all of it wanted. This was where she should be. Heated magic chased through her veins and she hummed, half-moaned, needing more. Needing everything. A Soul-Mate's Kiss. A proper one. Not some panicked blowing of air…but mouths and tongues and his hard body pressed to hers. A wild blending of desire and joy…
"What if I didn't want time?" Hermione gasped the question against his lips, her chest heaving. Want burned in the darkness of his eyes and her pulse rioted with it. "No special vows…"
Severus framed her face with his elegant hands, warm and callused. "Those vows can give you pause. And an option to escape. Witch, sealing the bond –having sex— would see us as married in the eyes of the Ministry. Fixed. Immediate. For life."
"I want that."
He blinked. "Miss Granger…"
"Hermione." Her hand wrapped around one of his, easing it from her face. She pressed her fingers into his palm. He had to understand. "They want me to…fuck anyone but you." Anger burned in her face, throwing a deepening heat under her skin. It was their choice and no one else's. "Anyone. Any anonymous wizard would do. They want to deny me my soul-mate, too. How dare they!"
Fury twisted in her chest. They weren't right. Severus Snape was clever and powerful…and made her want to climb like a tree. Logic and desire converged on this one wizard. Her wizard.
She shook her head. "Anything other than fully claiming our bond would say that they were right."
Severus's mouth twitched upwards, an unexpected warmth shining in his eyes. "Careful, your cat-claws are showing."
She snorted. "If I have my way, you'll see all of my—" She squeaked and dropped her head, pressing her forehead against his chest. Mortification swept up through her flesh.
Severus' soft laughter wrapped around her and it sharpened her embarrassment. Even as she wanted him, she wasn't used to this. Men and flirting and wince-inducing innuendo…
"There is no pressure, Hermione." He dropped a kiss to the wild tangle of her hair and the intimate gesture twisted around her heart. "This is all happening so quickly for you."
She looked up. "For both of us?" She drew in a long, steadying breath. "I know…I know I'm not your choice." Her attempt at a smile was more of a grimace. This had to be said and she dug deep for the will to say it. "That I'm hardly a substitute for…Lily." Shit, there was that bitter edge again. "But I think that we are compatible enough, don't you?" She tried a grin. "Fate seems to think so, anyway."
Severus sighed. "You are not her."
And those four words ran ice through Hermione's blood. For a moment, she closed her eyes, fighting back the sting of tears. He wouldn't see her cry. It was insanity. It defied her usual fix on logic. How was she spiralling so hard into this man? Was it the kiss? Would one shared so many months earlier have brought out the same riot of emotion, of lust and want, of that deeper, pained feeling she wasn't yet ready to face?
"Hermione?" He kissed her knuckles, his breath a tease to her skin. "Look at me."
She dragged out more courage, wrapped it around her heart and met his dark gaze.
"You are not her…and nor would I want you to be. Perhaps…" His lips pursed and that need to kiss him again caught her. Her chest ached at the pull of it. "Perhaps she was destined for me then. And I for her. But you, we, are destined for each other now." He paused, his gaze thoughtful. His voice turned soft. "No, I would not be the man I was then." He tilted his head his attention fixed on her again. "I am happy with that hypothesis. Are you?"
Hermione bit her lip and was unaware a tear had broken free until Severus brushed it from her cheek. "I am. Though I do think there should be more research done on this soul-bond problem. In depth, research…"
Severus smirked at her and that sweet little throb low in her belly pulsed again. His lips burned against the shell of her ear, the scent of him, a warm sandalwood with hints of herbs, of parchment forced her to clutch at his arm.
His lips curved and his voice, his voice was sin itself. "How deep would you like me to go, Hermione?"
Her knees almost buckled. Oh gods, this was so far beyond her experience…but the draw of it, of him was irresistible. "Until I don't know were you end and I begin."
His soft groan, somehow reluctant, as if drawn from him skittered a shiver down through her flesh. "Merlin, witch." He pulled her hard to him, his mouth on her exposed neck. "What are you doing to me? I want to strip you and take you against the wall, the floor, that ancient couch. Make you scream my name. Give you what you want and make you mine."
His hand cupped her backside and squeezed, urging her against the hard line of his erection. A gasp broke from her, even as his promise blazed through her mind. Any and everywhere. Together. So right—
Hermione found his mouth, quick, eager fingers tugging at the never-ending row of black buttons. Now. She'd have him now and all those absolute gits could go and fuck themselves instead—
"Severus Snape just what do you think you're doing!"
Hermione squeaked as Severus turned her, blocking her from the sudden Scottish bark. She hid her face against Severus' exposed shirt. Fuck. Fuck. Just want she needed, her old Head of House finding her trying to strip the Headmaster out of every stitch of clothing.
"Minerva." An edge of ice lined Severus' voice. "I believe this is still my private sitting room."
"What are you doing to Miss Granger?"
His sneer was almost palpable. "Do you not remember? Has it really been so long for you?" He paused, and Hermione fought to control the wildness of her heart, but found the match of it in his chest. "If you'd like, I can recommend a local tom. A bit ginger. Very clean."
"Severus!"
He huffed out a sour breath. An arm slid from Hermione's back and she missed it, inching closer to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you want of me, Minerva?"
"An Order meeting has been called at Grimmauld Place to discuss this…this occurrence."
Hermione looked up then. Professor McGonagall stood pinched-faced in the open doorway. Her papery cheeks were pink and her chin lifted. She was bristling. But what right did the witch have? What right did any of them have to interfere with something so private? Hermione glared. "What business is it of the Order?"
"You are in danger, Miss Granger. From a number of quarters."
Pale eyes slid to Severus and Hermione's lips pressed together. Was this why she was his soul-mate? He presented her with a perfect opportunity to give full rise to her need to crusade, to champion? Because, by the gods, he would have it in her.
"I am in no danger from Severus."
The statement or the use of his given name –possibly both— gave the other witch the look of sucking something extremely sour. "They are assembled."
"And I'm sure they wouldn't mind being unassembled, Professor."
McGonagall gave her a stern glare over her glasses. "Miss Granger—"
"Minerva, go ahead. We will follow on shortly." Severus waved his hand to the darkened hearth. "My floo is at your disposal."
"I will come back for you if you're not there in five minutes." McGonagall flung powder into the fire, the green rush of flames flashing over her, before she declared her destination and vanished.
"Do we have to—" Hermione blinked. "Severus, what are you doing?"
He smirked at her as he unbuttoned his frock coat, tossed his cravat and worked free his collar. Shirt buttons exposed the sharp edge of his collarbone and she felt an almost Victorian thrill at finally seeing his flesh… Of course. She laughed. Oh, he was cruel and wicked.
He yanked out a tail of his shirt, his smirk turning to a grin. "Do you agree?"
"Completely. May I?" She offered up her fingers to his hair, he nodded and she harried it. It was like silk, smooth and cool, but still the odd wild lock worked free. She looked down at her sundress, only a little creased and she lifted an eyebrow. "I hardly look ravaged."
Severus pressed a long finger to her mouth. "You are deliciously pinked and your lips are plump. There is a spark to you." His own mouth curved into a devilish smile. "They will have no doubt that I have had my hands on you."
Who knew that Severus Snape had such a sinful sense of humour? This whole marriage thing was looking better by the second.
He drew her to the fireplace and offered a pinch of powder as he took his own. He threw it into the hearth and within moments they were both spinning off to Grimmauld Place.
Still grinning, Hermione stumbled into the library to Professor McGonagall's ear-splitting screech and Severus' cool, calm reply of, "Really, Minerva, can I help it if the little witch finds me utterly irresistible?"
Yes, it was going to be an Order meeting unlike any other.
I'm still working through and planning the next chapter...so it should be up Sunday/Monday, as I also have edits I've been ignoring. Bad me! ;-)
Have I mentioned I love reviews? :D